Opium
by 23.OscarWilde
Summary: A rogue and drugs addicted cop. A charismatic and sly criminal and the frosty winter breeze of 19th century London. M for obvious reasons.
1. File 01

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

I know.. and I am ashamed. I should not be writing and posting new stories while I am still working on the old ones. But, this particular arc kept going through my mind, bugging me like on of those wind-up monkeys.

In this story I want to do something completely different with Ciel and Alois their characters. I want them to be truely independent with a hint of sadism and an overdose of natural charisma and sarcasm. I notice that I fell into a pattern and I do not like that. So, I hope I can toy with those personality traits in these chapters.

So, this tale will contain; drugs, robbery, corrupt cops, murder and sex.. basically a classic gangster story; one of those nice black and white movies, back when they still made good stories and everything was shot in real life, not modified and edited on computers.

The title might alter, I'm not sure yet, I'll just wait and see if this catches on.

With all my love and warmth; enjoy!

O.

* * *

The basement was dimly lit by oil lamps, furnished with luxurious divans and sofas and decorated with Asian objects and such. The stuffy air was filled with smoke and the delightfully sweetish and pungent odour of opium. His crimson eyes stared up, studying the ceiling intently as the detective inspector inhaled another deep huff of his pipe. Sebastian Michaelis was on his way to get as high as the sky on drugs, a state in which he had spend most of his days since he got to Paris approximately two months ago.

He reached to his left and groped around the small coffee table for his glass of ice cold louche. For a moment, he ceased his search and tried to put his focus to the ruckus at the entrance, but quickly sank back into blissful ignorance and curled his long fingers around the reservoir glass. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the owner complying to a more authoritative type of voice and shortly after, he heard footsteps coming his way.

"Inspector?" The groveling vermin said, repeatedly bowing his head in a most respectful manner as he interrupted Sebastian's private time. The young inspector found the expressing of politeness extremely annoying and didn't even bother to listen to him. Not until the owner continued. "Pardon my intrusion, but there is an English gentleman to see you."

Sebastian blinked, noticing how dry his eyes had become from aimlessly staring at the dark ceiling. Keeping them shut, he sighed, rolled on his side and jugged back his drink.

"I do not care for company," he spoke while raising his now empty glass. "And get me another," he demanded before putting the pipe to his lips again to take another drag. Astonishment made his entire body jerk when someone bluntly slapped the smoke out of his hands. Jolting up, he opened his mouth to growl a low insult at the perpetrator, but it was caught in his throat when he instantly recognized the male.

"So this is where you have been residing these past weeks. A house op sordidness and debauchery. A despair drenched pit of opium and alcohol," the male spoke and made no attempts to hide his disdain.

Sebastian waved it away with an annoyed gesture. "Don't bore me with your bourgeois, narrow minded ideas, will you? If you came here solely to deliver a running commentary on my choice of how to spend my suspension, I suggest you and your morality speeches should go back to whence you came from, Claude."

The other male raised an uninterested eyebrow at the inspector. "Do not get the delusion that your illicit practices and loose morals are the reason I came to Paris. I am here on official business."

With a vague hint of incredulity in his eyes, Sebastian barked a laugh. "I could've saved you the trouble of getting your boney ass over; I'm still on suspension for another month or so. You should know that; you're the one who suspended me after the incident during the Whitehall case," Sebastian reminded while squinting his eyes. "Which begs the question what really brought you here. Ready to venture into the excitement of the Parisian nightlife?" he slurred with a broad grin before flopping back down on the divan, stretching his slender figure and putting a hand behind his head. "Anything and everything is possible here at the Petite Coquette," he said while fanning out his fingers.

"This might come as a shock to you, but not everybody cares to explore the boundaries of illegal drugs and alcohol," Claude remarked sarcastically while taking in a glimpse of the sofa next to Sebastian. He could hardly mask his disgust upon seeing a leading France politician, drunk as a lord and shamelessly feeling up a naked courtesan.

Arching an eyebrow at the other male, Sebastian sniffed a laugh. "You're such a stiff, Claude, and not in the good sense of the word. Loosen up and enjoy yourself for once. It is no crime to indulge in the good life in your own free time."

"My ideas of leisure do not include getting either high or drunk. In my position, I have obligations; even when I am not on the job."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, reached down and picked up his pipe. "If you honestly came all this way to lecture me about my lifestyle and remind me of said obligations, I suggest you save your breath and don't bother, because frankly, I could care less for your opinions," he told him and took a drag of opium. His eyes rolled into the back of his head when the strong drug blazed through his lungs.

"I am an officer of the law. It is my job to see to law and order…" Claude began, but the other male raised his hand, palm out to stop him from speaking further.

"Need I remind you that we are not on British territory. You have no jurisdiction here, so spare me the official prattle and judgmental tone. If it is not pleasure, what brings you to Paris?"

"Like I said; official business," Claude repeated and threw an edition of the Daily Post on the stretched male's abdomen. Barely interested, Sebastian picked it up and tried his best to focus on the tiny lettering that danced mockingly in front of his eyes. After staring at the title for approximately five minutes, he could make out the words robbery and bank.

"Some bank has been robbed," he said while throwing the paper at Claude's feet. "Did you really went through all this trouble to tell me someone stole some cash. Can't you regular lackeys take care of this themselves?"

Claude sighed, bend down and started reading the article as he straightened himself. "Drummonds bank robbed, safe emptied clean and police left puzzled; Circus thieves strike again! After a series of burglaries amongst some of the most prominent families of the London upper class, the band of robbers seems to have successfully set their aims to a more profitable business," he read out loud before throwing the paper in Sebastian's face again.

"So? I fail to see how any of this is my problem," Sebastian said as he tried to read the remainder of the article himself. "I am still on…"

"Your suspension has been lifted henceforth," Claude interrupted him. "I need you back in London."

A sly smirk curled the other male's lips. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that chief inspector Claude Faustus came to beg for my help. It is almost endearing."

"Do not for one second think that I came here to beg. You are an officer of the law and as your supervisor, it is my job to see that you execute the oath you took; to serve and protect the people of London. They need your protection, now."

"I care little for the upper class," Sebastian said in a matter of fact tone of voice, and shrugged to emphasize his lack of interest.

"Sadly enough, the law does not distinguish the rich from the poor. You are obliged to serve all, without preference."

"Please," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes once more and tossing the paper aside. "The law is leading in demarcating the classes, right behind those sleazebags that form our so called parliament. You cannot deny that the amount of time the police spend on researching a case is not influenced by the class the victim is classified in. You and I both know how the system works or rather _doesn't _work."

Claude narrowed his eyes. "Regardless of our objections with the ruling of parliament and the rules of the Yard, the people of London need our help and it is our lawful duty to answer to that call."

Sebastian hissed, waving the words away while he tried to stand. Claude grabbed his flailing arm and helped him to his feet. Yanking it out of his boss's grasp, Sebastian wobbled unsteadily on his legs while waving a finger at Claude. "Spare me the rest of your bureaucratic and politically correct, patriotic jargon; I get it already," he growled while yanking his frock coat off the back of the divan. "When do we make for London?"

"Immediately. We will go to the port of Calais by automobile. A ship of the Royal Navy will take us from there to Dover."

"The Royal Navy," Sebastian whistled through his teeth. "Oh dear, you are taking this very seriously," he mocked his superior and went through his pockets in search of money. "Mister Kwan, I thank you for all your fine services and outstanding hospitality and products," he called and placed five golden sovereigns on the coffee table before turning to Claude. "Off we go then," he said with a wide grin. After he took his first uncoordinated step forward, he tripped over his own feet and fell face flat onto the Persian carpet covered floor.

"You useless idiot," Claude grumbled as he bend down, grabbed him in the collar and hoisted him to his feet.

* * *

Last nights' snow had covered the whole of London with a thick, white blanket. Everything was quite and untarnished as the residents did not hesitate to turn over on their other side and sleep on, ignoring the winters' for just another hour. The streets were quiet shy for a drunken fool who stumbled on home or a whore who rushed back to her boarding house.

It was in this blue hour, when the sweet light colored the snow pink, that a young man crossed the deserted streets of the city. He was alone, with only the sound of the snow crackling under his riding boots to keep him company. The cold air whipped at his nose and cheeks, so he buried his face a little deeper in his red woolen scarf and pulling the front of his top hat down, he covered even more of his face. Turning left, he passed through the gates of Abney park cemetery and took an immediate right. Passing several tombs and monuments, he stopped at two single headstones. He sighed, burying his gloved hands a little deeper in his pockets and stomped his feet to try and get them warm. For moments at an end, he remained silent, just staring at the marble tablets without a sound. Finally, he bend down and wiped the snow from the tops.

"I'm sorry it has been such a long time since I came to visit," he whispered while cleansing the elegant golden lettering from snow and dead leafs. "I have been very busy…"

The wind howled through the trees and stirred the leafless branches. The young male bowed his head, stared at his leather boots that were covered in snow and dirt and chuckled softly.

"Why am I lying to a bunch of headstones? I haven't been here since your funeral," he muttered before turning his head up and gazing at the sky. Tiny flakes were once again whirling down from the thick clouds and got stuck in his long lashes.

He exhaled a sigh , his breath a tiny vaporous cloud and dropped his chin to his chest. "I just don't like coming here. The scenery is dull, most tombs over the top and I hate running into that pudgy undertaker who skulks in the shadows of the mausoleums. I still don't know why I couldn't bury you at the estate."

His ramblings were disturbed when he heard the crackling of snow underneath two sets of boots. He slowly rose to his feet, retrieved a single blue rose from his pocket and placed it atop of the left headstone. The footsteps came to a halt several feet away from him, leaving the graveyard silent for him to finish his own private tribute.

"This will probably be the last time I come by," he spoke, glancing meekly at the pale marble stones. "I see no point in visiting buried caskets containing nothing but your lifeless bodies. I'm sure you'll understand…"

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him dragged the young man out of the moment. He blinked, clearing his vision from tears and spoke, his tone less mild than the one in which he had talked to the headstones.

"What is it?"

"We hate to interrupt, but it is time."

Sparing the graves one last look, he turned on his heels and gazed at the two men standing a few feet away. The blonde's blue eyes were kinder than normal and a small smile of sympathy curled his lips. The ginger haired male showed less emotion as his amethyst eyes scanned him, but the tiny crack in his voice proved otherwise.

"Are you alright, Ciel?"

He gave the two a short and firm nod. "I am perfectly fine. Is everything ready, Joker?"

"Yes," Joker answered. "The carriage is awaiting."

"Good," Ciel spoke while leaping forward and passing the men; they followed automatically and without hesitation. "Let us go than, I don't have all day."

Their coach stopped outside Hoare's bank exactly an hour later. Stepping out, the three males pulled their hats down and wrapped their scarves a little more tight around their necks, shielding their faces from the biting cold. The guards were barely noticing them while they were keeping a keen eye on the shady looking blonde males that were having a leisure smoke on the steps of the bank. Inside, people were making pleasant conversation while awaiting their turn. The three exchanged a look and after a short nod from the navy haired male, Joker pulled a thick chain from his underneath his coat and wrapped it tightly around the doorknobs, sealing the exit. Reaching beneath his long frockcoat, Ciel's fingers wrapped tightly around the cold steel at his hip and retrieving it, he raised and aimed his gun at the counter in front of him. Speaking, his clear voice echoed through the hall and immediately drew all the attention to the trio.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery. Remain calm, do as I say and no one will get hurt."

* * *

I like seeing Sebastian as a rogue and twisted inspector with conflicted moralities and Claude as a stand up and bureaucratic good guy. The thing that bugs me most about both the manga and anime is that Sebastian is such a pussy when it comes to Ciel; I mean, grow a pair and don't let that nagging kid treat you like a doormat... you're a demon for crying out loud, not Misses Doubtfire. (I wouldn't write this if I didn't know there are actually people out there who agree with me on this, right Karen? We have the usual fictional dick rant; we should do that again soon) And come on, I think we can all agree Ciel could have the makings of a very badass 'John Dillinger' like leader of a group of robbers.

I know it is a fairly short chapter, but I just wanted to built up some anticipation, set a mood.. if I had dragged on, I think I would've lost the magic of the minute, of the tempo I desire so. But, in all fairness, that is my own opinion and I know you all crave lengthy chapters, so, I will be sure to make the next a shitload longer.

**Gail**; this one is for you, I hope you'll enjoy not reading it and hearing about it from me when I rant about inspiration.

Alright, let me know if you hate it and advise me to put it to an abrupt stop or if you love it and want to know how this little story continues. Review, my bizarre dolls, review and make me a happy writer.


	2. File 02

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

First, I would like to take this note to thank all of you who reviewed and favorited this story. I am glad it was received well and that nobody was bothered by a rogue Sebastian, an indecent Ciel and a bureaucratic Claude, because coming down to it, I am falling in love with my own Sebastian here. Scandalous and inappropriate for me to enjoy my own writing this much, but, I don't know; he differs so much from the original character and I secretly hope that his true demonic side is more like this.

Now I sit here, wishing I had wine and cheese and more nice things so I could make even more progress on the third chapter, which is already being written as we speak. It's, I think, this story is so much different from things I wrote before and I am experimenting with other styles and character developments that make me so anxious to write and know your opinions. I hope you all can appreciate it as much as I do.

Enough chatter, let's get on with it.

Enjoy!

O.

* * *

_..Your story, Gail. Happy __almost__ 3 months anniversary.._

Everything was red. A bright red. The kind that was nearly blinding, sickening and was anything but comfortable. His physique felt like it was swaying, cradled on the waves of a vast and turbulent ocean. It made his legs and arms oddly heavy. His heart palpitated fierce against his ribs, making his body jerk and his ears whiz. He groaned, painfully aware of every sound around him; the wheels of coaches that rattled on the cobblestones, marketers shouting, children running and dogs barking. Sebastian woke up in a tiny attic, fully dressed and with a splitting headache.

His throat was dry, and he was famished. His thoughts were all blurry and confusing fragments, almost as if they didn't belong to him at all. His body was stiff and painful and felt alien. He had endured withdrawal before, but he had never experienced it this bad. He tried getting up, but his body refused to cooperate. So, he lay back down and waited for his brain to function properly enough to steer his limbs.

Lying there, he focused on the old beams overhead and tried to remember what had happened last night. For a second, he was absolutely sure that he had just been dreaming and that his supervisor, Claude Faustus, didn't travel all the way to Paris to order him to come back to London. This assumption was demolished when his now less foggy brain could register the thick and posh accent of London's finest. His mind filling through annoyance with his boss, he gave his long legs a powerful swing and moved himself into a sitting position.

The room spun and he felt foul tasting bile rise in his throat. Cupping his pounding head, he got up and staggered to the bay window to get some fresh air. Cracking the window open, he placed his hand on the frame and leaned in to get a feel of the cold December wind biting at his glowing cheeks. It had been snowing and all the rooftops were covered with a thick pack that glistened in the sunlight. Sebastian couldn't be bothered by the splendor of the view and inhaled deep. The freezing gusts of wind cleared his mind and awoke his body; every part of his body.

Mindlessly, he reached down and untied his pants and pulled out his erection. The ample dick felt heavy and warm in his trembling hand and he slowly jerked, rotating his long fingers up and down the shaft without thinking about it. He bucked his hips into the motion to cause more friction, giving himself a more intense gratification. His headache and nausea were forgotten while he focused on the movement of his hand, his lidded eyes rolling to the street below. Amidst the plebs and the posh walked a young person, dressed in a long frock coat and smart top hat, leaving half of the face covered by a shadow. The uncovered lower part showed a fine jaw line and the most sensual plump mouth Sebastian had ever seen. It talked and smirked and laughed and all of it in a most elegant manner. It was one of the most intriguing things Sebastian had ever seen and directing all his focus to those swollen pink lips, he came, groaning as his seed spilled from the tip and trickled down onto the dark wooden floor.

Panting, Sebastian looked up, his crimson eyes searching the crowd. The top hat and frock coat had disappeared, taking those bewitching full lips along. He shook his head, clearing the image and reached into his pants pocket. Clicking his watch open, he sighed annoyed. His first day back on the job after a suspension and he was already running late.

Dragging one foot in front of the other, using the wall as a support, he moved to the tiny adjacent bathroom to clean himself up. Gazing up in the mirror, a pair of tired crimson eyes stared back. He had bags under his eyes, and a shade of stubble. He needed to brush his teeth and couldn't find his razor. "Bugger," he swore and opened both faucets wide and held his head under the steady jet of water.

With his hair matted to his face and still dripping, he worked himself into a clean white shirt, a grey tweed suit and a black tie. He found his shoes somewhere under the bed and picked his coat and gloves of the ridiculously small kitchenette before rushing out the door. Even before he turned the key to lock his door, he heard a very monotone _Michaelis _right behind him.

"Is that you, Satan?" Said Sebastian and grinned, amused by his own cleverness while he spun around on his heels. "Close enough," he added once looking down on his balding landlord.

"Very clever," the man retorted before waving some pieces of paper in his face. "You're three months behind on your rent." Sebastian snatched the bills out of his chubby hands and checked them with a raised eyebrow.

"It seems I've been running late more often these days, how inconvenient," he said before folding them and handing them back between his fore- and middle finger. "I shall see to that once I have time to be bothered with such mediocre affairs."

"Mediocre affairs?" The landlord exclaimed as his face was rapidly switching color. "I am running a business here. I could have you arrested or thrown out for default," he threatened while waving a finger in Sebastian's face. The latter seemed entirely not impressed while he calmly put on his gloves. "A business, yes, and a shady one at that. Do you care to explain how those red pubic hairs ended up in my bathtub or would you like me to arrest right here for subleasing my apartment without my permission? I do believe I am missing a very nice pair of silver cufflinks."

"You wouldn't," hissed the landlord, squinting suspiciously at him. "Try me," answered Sebastian, his voice polite but his almost diabolic smile a silent warning. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am terribly late," and he walked away without paying any more attention to his landlord whom was trembling with cold sweat.

* * *

Once outside, he checked his watch once more and realized how late he was running. With the chance of his boss yelling at him already secured, he decided to take his leisure time by buying a paper and going for a tea at a local tearoom. The owner, a man that liked to go by the name Undertaker, was the authority on underground Opium dens. Naturally, he and Sebastian had grown quite acquainted.

The tiny bells chimed happily overhead, they resounded harshly in Sebastian's painful head. Undertaker looked up and grinned broad, the scars that ran across his face stretching at the eerie grimace. "Inspector Michaelis, such an honor. It has been quite some time since you last visited my humble shop," he chirped, his gleeful voice not matching his grim looking appearance. "Been busy. The usual," he answered and nodded to his regular table at the window. "One black tea, coming up," Undertaker repeated and disappeared in the back.

Sitting down, Sebastian unfolded his paper and was immediately confronted with the reason why he was reinstated in his function before his suspension was entirely through. The headline read that another bank had been robbed while the police's main suspects were in jail. He chuckled amused at it and skipped to more greener grasses and read an article about the upcoming world exposition in the Olympia hall.

"Anything good in the papers today than, inspector? Has only been nothing but robbery and murder these days," said Undertaker while he put down a cup of black tea. "Nothing worth mentioning," Sebastian answered and withstood a gag reflex and drew up his nose when Undertaker shoved a plate of dog bone shaped cookies in his face. "No thank you, I don't believe I can stomach anything presently."

"So, what are you doing back in London so soon?" Undertaker asked and sank his teeth in a cookie and brutally tore off a bit. "Weren't you in Paris, enjoying the finer things of life?" Sebastian turned a page and shook the newspaper, clearing it from creases. "I was, but I was summoned to come back."

Undertaker devoured the remainder of the cookie, the crunching sound his teeth made gnawing annoyingly at Sebastian's sensitive brain. "You were suspended," the male concluded and licked the crumbs off his fingers. "That has been lifted, obviously." The other male retorted in a snarky tone. "Don't you have other things to than sit here and loudly chew in my ear?"

"_Tch, tch, tch_. Aren't we in a bad mood this morning?" Undertaker chimed and dunked a fresh cookie in Sebastian's cup of tea. "Looks like someone is having a very bad withdrawal. Some sugar will help with that," he advised and raised the soaking biscuit to Sebastian's lips. The inspector twitched, slapped the hand away and grabbed the man's collar. Jerking him closer, he hissed low. "I don't need any damned sugar; I need a fix, soon."

Undertaker brushed the trembling hand away and stood back far enough to prevent another sneak attack. Looking left and right, he hunched over a little, whispering. "Come back tonight. The Chinese tea trader has opened a new one."

Satisfied, Sebastian stood, paid for his untouched drink and left. Taking the Undertaker's word for it, he stopped at a bakery on his way to work and bought a bath bun. A few alleys down the street, he threw up all of it behind a trashcan. His stomach had not been ready for something so solid and sweet. Before walking up the steps to Whitehall, he shoved a hand full of snow into his mouth and spit it out. The uniform at the door raised a suspicious eyebrow at him but tapped his cap when Sebastian showed him his badge.

In the office, it was a total chaos. Phones kept ringing; piles of witness testimonies lay unguarded and spread over several desks. The lock up was overcrowded and nobody had time to man the office that handled the people that came in to post a bail. Sebastian grunted, raised his hand to his forehead and massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "Preposterous," he said and slowly dragged his hand down his face.

"Oh, inspector Michaelis. You're back."

Sebastian tilted his head and looked through his fingers. All he saw was a stack of files with Mauve hair sticking out from behind it. Irritated to the core, he stepped forward and snatched the top off, revealing thick glasses and blushing cheeks. "What is happening here, Mey-Rin?"

"The office is chaos," she wailed. "I can see that, Sherlock. Follow me," he said and strode to his private office in the back. "And do explain what caused this monkey shack."

Following his orders precisely, Mey-Rin chased after her boss, trying to keep up with his long strides while she tried to explain the situation to her best knowledge. "And with Chief inspector, Commissioner and Constable working around the clock to solve the bank robberies, there was no one to manage the work around here," she finished and yelped softly when Sebastian dropped the files on his desk with a loud thud. "And it never dawned upon any of you idiots to take matters into your own hands?" He suggested with a sarcastic undertone and impatiently drummed his fingers on the collection of papers.

Mey-Rin stammered, fidgeted with her hands and nervously swayed back and forth on the heels of her boots. Before Sebastian could warn her, she lost balance and tumbled backwards; throwing the documents she still had in her arms into the air. Sighing, Sebastian dragged his digits through his hair while the girl crawled over the floor, matching papers and arranging them accordingly while she loudly exclaimed how sorry she was. Seeing the girl desperately grope around for the papers, creasing most while she tried her best to collect them as fast as she could, Sebastian sank down to his knees and helped her, telling her time upon time that it was alright.

"Thank you Sir, inspector Sir," Mey-Rin blushed a blazing red when Sebastian reached out his hand to help her to her feet. He waved it away, told her to arrange the testimonies by date and gender and to get him a cup of tea while he stepped out to have a word with their supervisors. "Certainly Sir. Yes Sir," she peeped and kept bowing until he turned the corner. Exhaling relieved, she threw herself into regulating the paperwork after her boss's liking.

* * *

Marching through the hall, Sebastian barked orders at the clueless officers, single-handedly recreating some of the order in his wake. Taking two steps at the time, he ran up the winding stairs to the top floor. The receptionist looked up, her serious frown instantly melting into a seductive smile. "Why, Sebastian," she laced her fingers together under her chin. "I didn't know you left Paris early."

The male's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this. "Claude came and summoned me personally. You didn't notice your fiancée was gone?"

"It's not unusual for him to be away from home for days at an end," she shrugged and leaned forward, her heavily endowed breasts squeezed together, allowing Sebastian a clear view of her cleavage down the pink top of her dress. "He must've told you something like this," asked he reassuring

"Claude doesn't talk much; at least not to me. In there, it's all talk. At home, he cannot be bothered with keeping a conversation. Thus, when can I see you again?" She asked, her deep voice laced with sexual desire. Now, Sebastian was even more confused. He couldn't recall having any type of a relationship with his boss's fiancée outside the office. But with her indigo eyes, hopefully peering up from under long lashes, he couldn't demolish said feeling, even if it was just to keep her from going to Claude and confess that something Sebastian couldn't even recall. "Soon, Hannah," was his answer. Even if he lied through his teeth, his voice sweet like honey. "Can I go in?" Asked he, nodding to the head office.

"They're in a private meeting and gave me strict instructions to stop everybody from disturbing- ey! I just said you couldn't…"

Sebastian ignored the woman completely and barged into the office, neglecting all good manners by knocking first. The conversation grew quiet and all heads turned to the door. Hannah pushed past the inspector and bowed her head. "I am awfully sorry, Sir. He walked right past me."

The disdain and annoyance with his fiancée was clearly written all over Claude's face but before he could scold her, the Constable waved it away with a simple hand gesture. "It is alright, Hannah. Could you bring us some more tea?" "Certainly, Sir," she stood straight, turned on her heels and threw Sebastian a mingled glare before leaving the officers amongst themselves.

"Detective inspector Sebastian Michaelis. How diligent of you to join us. Why am I not surprised to see you ran late, again."

"You must be able to foresee the future," Sebastian retorted, not at all impressed by his higher officers. Commissioner Arthur Randall looked as shocked by his attitude as Claude did. However, the Constable just sat back in his comfortable leather office chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Or have prior experience with your lack of commitment to Scotland Yard," he stated, fanning out his fingers.

Sebastian gnashed his teeth and stepped forward. Claude and Arthur refused to part so he simply pushed his way into the middle and leaned down on one hand and repeatedly jammed the forefinger of his other hand down on the desk. "If there is anybody who is currently showing any lack of commitment, it's the lot of you," he growled. "Have you seen the unruly mess the downstairs offices have turned into while you're all up here, _not _solving these cases."

"Michaelis!" Claude exclaimed harsh. "You cannot take that patronizing tone with Constable Grey. You apologize, immediately."

"No," Constable Grey lifted a hand. "Let him talk. I am sure we keep him on for some reason other than personally stumbling into every illegal opium den. Office ethics and organization might be it. Or solving cases, since he seems absolutely sure we cannot perform our jobs properly. Tell me, inspector Michaelis, what are you conclusions on each matter."

Sebastian stood back and crossed his arms. "At least send someone down to direct the office lackeys in answering calls, keeping the paperwork in order and man the bail office. I am sorry to have assumed that something like that speaks for itself. On the matter of the case, I would have to go over the evidence and read the testimonies."

"Splendid," Constable Grey hummed. "Then why don't you go and do all that while we stay up here and solve this case like real policemen. For this sort of thing, you need a clear head," and the silver haired male tapped against his right temple. "And not some disheveled, unshaven addict who can't even seem to keep a straight path in his own personal life. Off you go," and the constable made a hand gesture, ordering him to leave in a most condescending manner. Arthur grimaced satisfied while Claude remained indifferent to the way they treated his best inspector. Sebastian just straightened his back, set his jaw and turned on his heels, not bothering with politically correct formalities and slammed the door on his way out.

"The nerve on that man," Arthur growled. "So vain and childish. I do no question the constable's judgment on this, but why must you keep him on."

"Because he works accurately and has a ninety-four percent closing range," Claude answered for the constable. "He might not work by the book, but he is a good inspector, one of our finest."

"He is an addict!" Arthur exclaimed. "A disgrace to this noble force and a pest in our good constable's eye. Not even to mention the drastic and unconventional methods he uses."

"I do not condone his methods, but they work," stated Claude and tilted his head in a smug manner. "Besides, you are a drunk who beats his wife and children. You are not one to pass judgment, Sir," he added when he realized he was talking to his own supervisor.

"Why you," grumbled Arthur, his hands itching to hit something. The soft knock on the door distracted all and Hannah wheeled in a cart with hot tea and refreshments. Constable Grey stood and raised his hands in an almost preaching pose. "Let us not fight amongst ourselves, gentlemen, for we need one another in these dark times. But crime can wait while we enjoy our well-deserved cup of tea, thank you Hannah, my dear."

* * *

Sebastian calmly walked down the stairs, his fists shaking next to his body in a rage that exceed his bad withdrawal and made his head strangely clear. "Arrogant, pompous dick," cursed he and stopped at the bottom stairs.

The gigantic hall was still a mess, even after his commands and employees swarmed around like anxious ants, clueless what they should do. The ones that did try to proceed their normal working they were disturbed by the novices that immediately bombard them with questions. "This is a police station," Sebastian muttered, and as much as he hated the strict rules of bureaucracy, he couldn't work while people aimlessly swarmed around the office.

He placed his hands on his slender hips, inhaled and raised his voice. "Attention. Now!" He boomed loudly. It did not work immediately but after the second time, he had the attention of most of the employees. "Good, this is how it is going to work from now on. Canterbury, Thompson and Timber. You will man the phones and answer questions accordingly and write down every valuable tip. Do not give out any more information to the press without my permission."

"Yes, Sir," the triplets replied in sync and went to work.

"Mey-Rin, you work with Misses Diaz and Miss Smith and file all the tips and testimonies. Bring me hourly updates."

"Yes, Sir, Yes," Mey-Rin saluted.

"Master Kelvin, work the bail posting office with Bluer. Violet and Greenhill will stay guard and I want the rest of the uniforms out on the streets. And could somebody find me the active inspectors on the robbery cases. Now!"

Satisfied with seeing some of the natural order restored in the chaotic mess, Sebastian strode to his office, slammed the door and sank down on his chair. Fleetingly, he dragged his forefinger down the piled up files, sighed and sat back, stretching his legs. "This is going to be a long day," he concluded and closed his eyes for a moment. After, he got up, took off his coat and gloves and lit a cigarette. Retrieving some paper and a fountain pen from his top drawer, he took the top file, opened it and carefully read through it whilst taking notes.

* * *

I know, the chapters might a be little too short to you liking, but I will get to longer chapters. These are all solid builders, laced with cement and packed with information about Sebastian's character, the investigation and the relations between him and his supervisors. So, do not fret, Ciel will make his appearance soon, and I am sure he will make a dazzling and lasting impression.

Review, my lovely bizarre dolls. Let me know if I am,_ indeed_, on the right track.

_A very special thanks to Anime Cujo, BlackRoseEden and Kinoooo. Your never ending support is what make me strive to be better._


	3. File 03

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

Because I am not the worst person in the world and I want to leave you all with something to nom on while I take a mini break of five days to Belgium to see Gail, I updated this little chapter. Some might love it, others might hate it; I don't know, I myself was pretty satisfied.

I got a question in the reviews, asking me when Sebastian will meet Ciel. Well.. that really depends on how the story goes. He is busy with his investigation and Ciel is really not likely to walk up to him and become friends. They're opponents, it'll take some time. I'll get there, I think it might possibly take another chapter or two, but they will meet, and it'll be fireworks. _Sugar and spice, and everything nice.._

Now, because I really have nothing important to report, I shall leave it at this and be on my way.

Enjoy!

O.

* * *

Hours into the necessary paperwork, Sebastian had downed fifteen cups of sugar watered with some tea, smoked at least a package of cigarettes and had send Mey-Rin to get him a loaf of bread and a jar of honey, which he all ate within half an hour. His body had been shaking and he had been sweating, his body going from hot to freezing cold. He needed a fix, but in order to get some, he needed to work and thicken his savings again.

When his tremors made his hands shake so violently that he could barely hold his pen, he got up and reached into the back of his bookcase. The whiskey was still there, untouched, and the taste was bittersweet when it smoothly danced over his tongue and trickled down his throat. He could breath normally again, for the first time in the past hour, and his hands stopped shaking. Maybe it would be best to stay clear of the opium for a day or two, give his body some time to recover. Jugging back another gulp, he strode back to his desk and sat down. "Enter," he answered the knock on his door.

"Michaelis," Claude acknowledged and closed the door. Smirking, Sebastian leaned back, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his ankle over his knee. "Well, well. The prodigal chief returns."

"Don't act smart," Claude retorted and sat down in the ratty chair opposite the inspector. "I was kept up by my superiors to discuss pressing and classified office matters-" "Talking sweet nothings over a cup of tea," Sebastian corrected him and clacked his tongue. "Very pressing indeed."

Claude ignored his pun for now and continued his explanation. "I cannot carelessly blow in whenever I please and insult them like you do."

Sebastian angled his head and carefully studied his boss. He couldn't be much older than him, yet, his entire diplomatic attitude made him seem far older than he really was. "Yes, as one of the few, I do not care for bureaucracy and a seat at the mayor's table at some charity banquet. But do not worry, I will keep this place up and running while you lick your way up to the top until you have achieved a title that will secure your place amongst those pretentious dicks."

Claude squinted. "You may think I am a good-for-nothing bureaucrat that is set solely on gaining governmental authority, but do not hesitate for a moment that I am blind to the lack of real stand-up leadership here. I pursue this path with nothing but good intentions for the force and for the people of London."

Sebastian snorted and rolled his eyes. "I am not an idiot, Claude. I know you have motivations that are less selfish than those bastards upstairs, and I respect that. If for anything, I am convinced you will do a better job than the current Constable. But, I am sure you are not searching for either my approval or office vote. What can I help you with?"

Nodding to the bottle of whiskey Sebastian didn't even bother to hide. "First, I could use one of those," said Claude. The other male grinned. "Excellent," he exclaimed, opened his middle drawer and retrieved a glass. Claude took the drink and sipped at it while Sebastian bluntly jugged down another mouthful. "Secondly, the reason I lifted your suspension early is because the active inspectors are stuck. For two months, they have chased useless tips and interrogated all the riff raff of London and turned up with nothing."

"How audacious of you to admit that you need me to my face," smirked Sebastian smug. Claude told him to keep his commentary to himself before moving along with the matters at hand.

"I will see to it that you get all their gathered information so that you and your new partner can sift through it and retrieve useful facts, granting that there even is anything useful Aberline's notes."

"Excuse me, could you go back. My new partner? You know I prefer to work alone," Sebastian pointed out. This time, Claude grinned with smug self-satisfaction.

"I know you do, but since I do not condone of some of your more, unconventional actions that are at all not related to the investigation, I need someone to watch you."

"Someone to watch me? I do not need one of your idiotic lackeys to follow me around like a lost puppy. It'll only get in the way of said investigation. I work alone, period."

"Oh, do not fret so, I am told that he is an excelling apprentice. Also graduated top of his class and has a keen, fresh perspective on things. I am all but positive you will find him, rejuvenating. Besides, there is no doubt in my mind that most of the current findings will go down the drain; you need to catch up and fast. I am sure you can understand that I need to make this go away, quickly. The nobles are starting to stir and protest, taking their money out of the banks and causing a gap in our fine economical system. You need help."

Still shocked by the nerve of appointing him a nanny, Sebastian could only stare and stammer. "I… but- I… no…" Claude smiled, took his last sip and stood.

"That is the spirit. I knew you would also be proactive," he chimed, shaking a clenched fist in the air. "I will introduce you to Mister Sutcliff in the morning," he said and gently drummed his fist on the piles of paperwork. "Job well done, chap. Let's call it a day and start fresh in the morrow. Have a lovely evening."

"But I don't want to," Sebastian finally exclaimed when Claude closed the door. "Sir? Mister Faustus? …Damnit," and he violently knocked the pile he had labeled as useless off his desk and shoved his digits in his hair. "Prick," he cursed and glared daggers at his notes for a few minutes. Finally, he got up, put on his coat and gloves, turned off his desk light and left his office.

"Mister Michaelis, Sir."

Sebastian groaned. He felt too vexed to handle Mey-Rin's nervous rambling. Still, he stopped in his track and waited for the mauve-haired girl to catch up with him. "Yes, Mey-Rin?"

Her cheeks colored instantly when he mentioned her name and Sebastian rolled his eyes when she commenced in talking gibberish. "Breathe, Mey-Rin, and get to the point. I have an urgent matter I have to attend to." And the matter become more pressing with every minute while his restless body begged desperately for a fix of opium.

The girl nodded, swallowed and handed over a package. "This was dropped off for you just now." Sebastian frowned at the brown paper and slowly unwrapped it. Inside was a single ivory envelope with elegant blue lettering. Mey-Rin blinked at it. "Hey, the inspectors Aberline got the exact same envelope when they started working on this case."

The inspector nearly dropped it and made Mey-Rin yelp when he grabbed her shoulders and leaned down. "Who dropped this off? What was the exact time? Why didn't you alarm the guards if you knew the other detectives got this exact same envelope as well? Speak up," he barked and shook her.

"I-I don't know. About ten minutes ago. He told me it was private and not to look inside, and I think he was wearing a cloak of some sorts. Or was it a top hat?" Mey-Rin put her finger to her chin and tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. "He did have the most peculiar looking hair. I remember thinking to myself that it was a most fiery orange… Sir?"

Sebastian didn't wait for the girl to finish her story and ran to the entrance. Outside, it was snowing again. He came to a skidding stop on the marble porch and looked left and right. It was useless, even if his gut feeling told him the person would hang around to see Scotland Yard's reaction to the provocation, with the girl's faltering description, he had no idea what to look for.

"Inspector Michaelis; are you alright, Sir?"

He turned and offered the guard a ghost of smile. "Perfectly fine… sergeant Baldroy." He replied, reading the guard's badge. "Thank you."

He spun on his heels and was careful to tread down the slippery steps that lead up to White Hall. At the bottom, he turned the envelop left and right, searching for any clues on the outside. He held it up against a lantern and when he was absolutely certain there was no hidden message on the envelope, he carefully opened it. He swallowed audibly when he retrieved a picture of his graduation class with him circled. Turning it, the same elegant writing left a cryptic message.

"_Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires. Time discovers truth, and you are running out. Game on, inspector Michaelis. Sincerely, C._"

Blinking, Sebastian reread the lines, and once more. Afterwards, he carefully placed the personal message in the inside pocket of his coat, put up his collar and started down the street. Walking to Nothing Hill, he gazed left and right, searching the crowd for suspicious figures. None had the ablaze hair Mey-rin had described and he finally gave up, knowing it was utterly pointless.

* * *

Undertaker looked up from his anatomy book when the bells chimed and grinned wide when Sebastian walked up to the counter.

"Here," he held out a folded piece of paper between his middle- and forefinger. "Ask for Lau and tell him I send you. Might make for a nice discount." Sebastian unfolded the parchment, read the address and put it in his pocket and turned. "Thank you," said he, holding up a hand in a greeting manner before closing the door.

He halted a coach and told him a dock number at the Chelsea harbor. The coachman didn't ask questions when Sebastian showed him his badge, guaranteeing himself of a free ride. Entering Chelsea, they passed the old church and the royal hospital. Crossing Sloane street and closing in on the river, they drove through the better residential portion and passed Halifax bank, one that had not yet been attacked by the band of robbers; however, Sebastian was absolutely sure that this bank would also become a target.

"Chelsea dock," the driver called.

Sebastian stepped out, thanked him for his services and paid him one golden guinea to come and pick him up in three hours and another to be discrete about it. When the lights of the coach had disappeared in the wintry blizzard, he plowed through the snow to the only lit door at the dock. He pounded, and a tiny panel in the door slit open. "Yes?"

"Undertaker send me."

The golden eyes studied him for a second before the hatch closed and the door was unlocked. "Come in," the petite and scarcely closed Asian girl said, gesturing down a set of dark and steep stairs that led to the basement of the warehouse. Sebastian set foot inside, inhaled deep and cautiously descended down the narrow steps. The girl stuck her head outside, checked left and right before closing and locking the door and following the male down.

The stairs led to a narrow passage. Sebastian stopped at the bottom and waited for the girl to lead him further. "This way," she held a red velvet curtain aside and gestured for him to go in. The bittersweet aroma of opium tickled his nose and practically draw him inside.

The room was lit by enormous Chinese lanterns and furnished with oriental rugs, red divans and golden side tables. Amongst the guest, he recognized some old politicians _and_ some active ones, writers and rich entrepreneurs. Had he been after a seat at the Constable's _private _meetings, an arrest like this would've secured him of such instantly.

"Wait here please," said the girl and swayed her way to the back. There, on a wooden platform, nestled in a pile of vast green pillows, sat an Asian male, surrounded by numerous women. The girl sank down to her knees, crawled over and pressed her full bosom against his chest while whispering something in his ear. He looked up, nodded and seemed to excuse himself.

"Welcome, dear guest," he said, his voice a bit too ambiguous to the inspector's liking but, his addict side only cared about his next fix, so he forgot about it. Slowly, the flamboyantly dressed male approached Sebastian and extended a cautious hand. "A friend of the Undertaker's I hear?"

"Yes. He gave me this address," Sebastian replied, and even though saying Undertaker was a friend of his was the overstatement of the century, he could always use a handsome discount.

"A friend of his, is a friend of mine. I am Lau, owner of _little China town's delight_. Did you have anything particular in mind tonight, Sir…?"

"Faustus," Sebastian said, inwardly grinning at his own clever pseudonym. It wasn't necessary to give them a different name, you paid for their discretion, but his mind was still filled through vexation with his boss, he couldn't withstand the tedious seduction of somehow trashing his clean name; even if he might never know.

"Faustus; a fortunate one. With what fortune might I bless you tonight? As you see, I offer a variety of very special products, but you are the sort of man that would be interested in…"

"I came to understand that you have some of the finest opium in this part of London," Sebastian interrupted him bluntly. Lau grinned and gestured to a free divan. "Certainly Sir Faustus, I will ask one of the girls to prepare a pipe for you right away. Anything else I can be of service with?"

"A glass of louche."

"Ice cold?"

"Naturally."

"Splendid; I shall have it brought to you instantly. Meanwhile, make yourself comfortable and let us take good care of you." And Lau turned, clapped his hands and yelled something in Chinese.

Sebastian walked straight by the prime minister, lay down on his appointed divan and stretched his aching body. After staring at the ceiling for a minute, his thoughts trailed off to the investigation and he automatically reached into his inside pocket.

"Good evening, Sir."

Sebastian angled his head and gave the girl a simple nod of acknowledgement. She was fine looking with long legs and a skimpy Chinese dress that left little to the imagination; an attire that seemed mandatory for the women around here.

While she prepared his opium pipe, Sebastian studied the picture closer. He turned it upside down, and tried to find if the image held hidden clues. He couldn't find any and loosely fanning the picture between thumb and forefinger, he concluded it was just a thought-provoking strategy to let him know they were game on.

"Your pipe is ready, Mister Faustus."

He smirked devious at the sound of that name, carefully placed the picture back in his coat and took the pipe from her petite hands. "Thank you," he replied and curled his lips around the nozzle and inhaled deep, slowly sinking into a state of blissful ignorance.

* * *

The wind howled outside the illuminated manor and caused minor ground blizzards. A hooded person approached it by horse, cloak billowing in the wind and his moving figure covered by the shadows of the trees. The hoofs echoed loud when the animal galloped down the cobblestone drive. The front door opened when he dismounted the horse and the reins were given to the blonde young man that had come rushing out.

"He needs to be brushed and fed," the figure told, stroking the black stallion's manes before walking up the three steps up the porch. He was greeted at the door by a gleeful young woman and the melody of a sonata he did not know.

"Good evening Sir. May I take your cloak?"

The cover came undone and the ginger-haired male smiled while handing his cloak and gloves to the servant girl. "Thank you, Paula. Where is the Earl?"

"He is in the library with Lord Trancy," she answered. "Let me hang this to dry first and I shall show you the way after."

"That is alright; I know my way around."

The brunette gave him a fond smile. "Very well Sir. I shall bring you a glass of warm wine shortly. It'll warm you right back up after that bitter cold outside. Excuse me," and she left to hang the cloak in the washroom. The male spun on the heels of his boots and made for the back of the manor.

Arriving at the hand carved, double oak doors, he raised his hand and knocked politely. After a muffled _enter_, he opened one door and stepped inside. The warmth of both the fire and violin music wrapped around him like a thick blanket.

The Earl sat in one of the royal blue arm chairs by the fire, a glass of wine in one hand and the other folded calmly in his lap. His eyes were closed and his face an epitome of tranquility while he breathlessly listened to the enrapturing music. Next to the hearth stood a tall blonde, skillfully mastering the violin. While his body elegantly moved along on the notes, his fingers produced a number of technically demanding double stop trills with ease.

The ginger-haired male approached with caution, afraid he might break the enchanting momentum that had time standing still in the library. Halting, he clicked his heels together to subtly get the Earl's attention. He opened his eyes, the cobalt blue shimmering in the light of the fire. Before the male could open his mouth, the Earl raised a hand, palm out to stop him from speaking. After, he gestured to the empty seat next to him. The man sat down and smiled sheepish. The Earl gave him an approving nod, tilted his head back and closed his eyes again.

Both listened without a word; eyes closed in the conviction they might be absorbed by the moment entirely and that the intelligent sonata would be everlasting. Neither of the males noticed the maid entering and refreshing their drinks. Everything was centered around the music until it came to a bittersweet ending. Afterwards, neither said a word. They tried to linger and indulge in the magic a little longer. At long last, the Earl inhaled and sighed delighted.

"One night, in the year 1713, I dreamed I had made a pact with the devil for my soul. Everything went as I wished: my new servant anticipated my every desire. He played me a sonata so wonderful and so beautiful, played with such great art and intelligence, as I had never even conceived in my boldest flights of fantasy," Ciel recited. It took only seconds for the blonde to huff a laughter.

"Bullocks. You have such wild imagination, Ciel," he sneered and went to put his violin in its case. The Earl chortled at his friend's honesty and sipped his wine.

"It is not of my own imagination, Alois. It is the story behind the sonata, and I happen to find it a very lovely one. Not every sonata can tell such a wonderful tale."

"A tale of the devil making a pact to be servant in exchange for a mortal soul. I find it very hard to believe," Alois retorted and clicked the case shut. He sauntered back and picked up his glass of wine. Ciel looked up at him from under his lashes and smiled mysteriously.

"Always a man of science. No room for the what if's and maybe's."

"That is very correct. I do not believe in devils, demons or whatever deviltry religion made up in order to keep their faithful lambs in check. All a masquerade to camouflage their real intent and that is to make money of those poor bastards. Besides, if such hocus pocus existed, why would the devil play a loyal slave while he could easily claim his soul and drag him to hell," Alois pointed out and went to stand by the fire again.

Ciel smiled, sparing Alois's rational explanation no second thought. "It is a fable, Alois, there is no need to scientifically proof whether the possibility of it happening is likely or non-existent. Rational thinking does not apply since a fable on its own is already a fictional story."

The blonde shrugged and leaned on the mantle. "Then I'd rather have you stick with scientifically acknowledged facts over improbabilities. I know facts and I can rationalize them; I-"

Ciel raised his hand. "At ease, Alois. Just take a deep breath. How I keep on forgetting your inability to process things that defy science is beyond me. I shall try and keep it in mind."

"Good," Alois grumbled and sipped his wine. Ciel shook his head with another chortle before turning his gaze to the ginger-haired male. "Is it done, Joker?"

"It is, Sir. I personally saw the transaction between the employee and the inspector," Joker replied. "Also, this," he continued handed Ciel a file. He took it, put it in his lap and opened it. His eyes scanned the information.

"Graduated top of his class with high recommendations from all his professors. An excelling student with a most promising future," Ciel read out loud and clacked his tongue. "How the mighty have fallen", he mused and smirked most amused. "Excellent. You proof to be a most interesting opponent, inspector Michaelis."

"He won't be alone."

The three looked up at the gruff voice. A soaked blonde stood in the doorway, holding up another file. Ciel got up and gestured to his chair. "Bard, so good of you to join us. Come sit by the fire, warm yourself and share with us this new information."

The blonde listened without protest, sat down and opened the file. "Grell Sutcliff; as of tomorrow morning, he will be Michaelis's new partner," he said, handing the papers to Ciel. Alois walked up, stared over Ciel's shoulder and barked a laugh.

"Looks like a complete retard. Are they deliberately undermining their own investigation?"

Bard shook his head. "Do not let looks deceive you. Also graduated top of his class. Took a years training with the master of arms, William T. Spears. He became quite the bomb expert."

Ciel nodded and stroke his bottom lip. "Then he can proof to be a tricky opponent as well. How are our own experiments progressing?" He asked and looked over his shoulder. Alois's calm features rapidly turned into a most diabolic smirk.

"I have completed most of my research and my findings are that if you put a small amount of dynamite in a gas-pipe, the explosive should be strong enough to easily blow up the door of a safe. Also, I am experimenting with some other chemicals such as nonivamide, bromoacetone and syn-propanethial-S-oxide, which can be found in onions. It should produce a most useful gas that can also be compressed in a pipe and used to distract civilians and police officers," he concluded, his pale blue eyes shimmering with insane delight.

Ciel nodded. "Some sort of a gas that effects the eyes?"

"Indeed," Alois grinned.

"Do you think you can have it finished by next week?"

"Certainly. I shall need more onions though and that ridiculous chef of yours refuses me entrance to the kitchen."

"You nearly blew up both him and my kitchen. I told him to keep you out," Ciel told him in a matter of fact tone and handed the file on the new inspector back to Bard. "Joker, notify the others. We shall make our next target on Wednesday, a week from now."

Joker shot up and saluted. "Yes, Sir. I shall return to the Circus immediately."

"Superb. And Bard; I'd like you to keep me in the loop on this new inspector. Gather as much information as possible."

"I will, Sir," he replied and got up. Clicking the heels of his boots together, he bowed and followed Joker out the library, leaving Alois and Ciel alone.

"A most interesting crew you have gathered here, Phantomhive," Alois said and a harsh slap was delivered the Ciel's back. "Vincent would've been proud," he added in passing. Ciel watched the blonde walk out and a ghost of a melancholic smile briefly curled his lips. Turning, he tilted his head back towards the family portrait that still hung over the hearth.

"No," he whispered, knowing his father had never wanted this kind of double life for him. "He would've scolded me."

* * *

Inside sources; that sort of had to happen I suppose. I hope you are all enjoying Ciel's more mature attitude and Alois's semi mad scientist tendencies. I really enjoyed writing that bit. I want Ciel to be more like Vincent because from what I gather from the manga, he is pretty rogue and sardonic. And Alois, he needs to lose his happy-go-lucky slut image. He is so much more than that.

Review, please. It'll make me happy and it encourages me so to continue this. Until we meet again, my lovely bizarre dolls.

_(Oh, and there is also a chapter 2 that still needs more reviews. Please? ^^)_


	4. File 04

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

_I thank you, all of you who have reviewed and showed me their kind appreciation. Your words travel further than you might ever know and inspire and encourage me to be better. You're all dangerously beautiful and incredibly remarkable~_

I know, I am a horrible author, human being - I don't really know anymore. I am supposed to update Indebted, and I am trying, so fucking hard. That document is opened 24/7 but the words refuse to come out. You cannot hate me more than I already do myself, so please. I ask for your patience on that story, because the duck will be boned. (For all of you to decide who said duck is)

In other news, new chapter for Opium (unenthusiastic woohoo I reckon). I was pleased with it, and I can only hope you will be as well because I shall warn you beforehand; Sebastian and Ciel are not going to meet in this one either. Patience, my doves, and all shall be revealed shortly.

For now, just enjoy, and hate me a little more. Makes the next update that more sweet.

O.

* * *

It was at twilight, roughly minutes before the sun would rise and shine through the opening in the royal blue curtains of his bedroom that Ciel was roughly woken by someone pounding on his door. Judging by the impatience and careless manner, Ciel knew it could hardly be his butler, Tanaka. His loyal servant knew better than to wake him in such a crude way.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. Before he could tell the person to enter, the door opened and a blur of blonde hair jolted through the room. "Why is that woman coming over?"

Ciel lowered his hand and tilted his head back. Alois loomed over him, his arms crossed over his chest while he impatiently tapped his foot. "Well?" He demanded with a scowl.

"A good morning to you too," Ciel retorted calmly. "What woman are we talking about."

"The annoying one," Alois snapped back. A small chuckle rose in his chest and left Ciel's lip in a melodic laugh.

"You think everybody is annoying," he pointed out flatly, blue eyes amused by his friend's visibly growing irritation. "Could you be a bit more specific."

"The blonde one. The lawyer one," Alois snarled before he looked away and continued mutter. "The one that is always condescending about my work," he added offended.

Pretending to ponder his words over, Ciel cupped his chin and focused on his warm duck down bedding with ivory covers and nodded seriously. "So… is it either the blonde or the lawyer one?"

"Ciel!" Alois fumed, his cheeks turning bright red with irritation. "Do not toy with me. It is already bad enough you invited her over for breakfast."

Ciel raised a hand, palm out to stop Alois's protest. "I have my reasons, and I believe this is still my own household. I can invite whomever I please without keeping your objections in regard. That said, where is my morning tea?" Ciel threw the covers off, swayed his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched himself.

"But Ci-el," the blonde whined. "She gets on my nerves."

Ciel ignored his friend, stood and went to open his curtains. It had been snowing again and the garden was covered under a fresh pack. He hated this cold weather and shivered just at the thought of having to step outside in a couple of days. He could really use his cup of tea right now.

Meanwhile, Alois was pleading his case why his hatred for the yet unidentified woman was just and how she was nothing more but a simpleton for openly mocking his important work. Ciel reached up and massaged the pulsing veins of his temples. He felt a headache coming up and Alois's banter wasn't helping.

"Please Alois," he said in a low sigh after a moment. "I am not in the mood for your petty fretting," he added. "At least not before I had my tea and newspaper."

"Yes, but-"

"Alois!"

Alois fell silent, his jaw twitching while he slowly took in his friend. Ciel's posture was calm, but his normally composed eyes burned with diabolic fires; ones he did not dare defy nor tame.

"We're done with this matter," Ciel stated calmly and made a short gesture with his hand, indicating the subject was closed. When the blonde gave him a short nod, the fires gradually faded and the audacious smile that was so significant to Ciel was restored. "Now could you please go and check what is keeping Tanaka? I am sure Elizabeth will arrive shortly and I still need to ready myself to receive her."

"Yes, my Lord," Alois said and bowed his upper body in a mocking manner before he wheeled around on his heels and walked out, stubbornly continuing the discussion under his breath and just loud enough for Ciel to hear. The young Earl rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile before turning and moving to his bathroom.

* * *

Minutes after Ciel and Alois had installed themselves in the parlor, a firm knock on the door and a clear female voice announced the arrival of Elizabeth. Alois shot his friend a meaningful glare, but Ciel simply ignored it and sipped his tea.

"She will be horrible," the blonde hissed under his breath while dunking four sugar cubes in his tea. Ciel wrinkled his nose at it and held his paper up higher to block the recalcitrant huffing and muttering Alois.

"Miss Midford has arrived," Tanaka's voice announced. It was immediately followed by a perky one, telling them not to bother getting up and moments after, Ciel felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around his neck. "Good morning, my darling," she whispered in his ear and pecked him on the cheek.

"Elizabeth," he acknowledged and patted on her forearm. Turning his head, he gazed in her brilliant green eyes and granted her a generous smile. "Always lovely to see you."

"Yes," she stood back and walked to the chair Tanaka had pulled out for her. "I was very much delighted to get your invitation. A very sudden one at that," she shot a look his way. "Any alternate motives I have to keep in regard," she asked, her head tilted and her eyes squinted while studying her childhood friend. Ciel chuckled bright and shook his head.

"Whatever makes you say or even think that? Can't I simply invite a dear friend over for a nice breakfast without a hidden agenda?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips and reconsidered his words for a second. "With you, no," she answered flatly and gave Tanaka a polite nod when he asked her if she wanted a cup of tea as well. "You do realize that I have no legal grounds on which I could defend your actions."

"He bloody knows," Alois blurted out annoyed. Eyes turned to him and Ciel gave him a meaningful glare that silently threatened him shut his mouth. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and looked him up and down with a nasty scowl.

"I see he still keeps you around. I would like to say I am charmed to see you, Alois, but lying is not in my nature," she punned with a feigned sweet smile.

Alois rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You must be one lousy lawyer than."

Ciel grunted and cupped his forehead while the two blondes shot insults to each other from across the table. His headache was rapidly increasing and it made him sick to his stomach. He waved the scones with clotted cream and jam Tanaka offered him away, reached for his tea and took a comfort sip. The fight was momentarily stalled when the butler held the tray in front of Elizabeth. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and a huge and friendly smile curling her lips.

"Oh Tanaka," she sighed and cupped her cheek. "You know I cannot resist those, even if I have to watch my figure. Might as well glue a stick of butter on my hips," she added with a giggle and told she'd have two. Alois opened his mouth to present another snarky comment about it but was stopped by Ciel lifting a hand, palm out.

"Enough," he said. "Can't we enjoy a nice breakfast and good company without you two verbally slaughtering each other. It is enough I say and you two will act civilized to each other hence forth. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Alois said and folded his arms over his chest. "Tell it to _that_," he spat and nodded towards Elizabeth. The blonde gasped insulted and covered her heart with her hand. "Excuse me?! Why don't you take that potty mouth of yours and-"

Both blonds yelped involuntarily when Ciel slammed his hands down. Green and pale blue eyes turned to him and both shifted uneasy in their seat, almost anxiously awaiting for him to talk. Ciel inhaled, his appearance calm and stoic while he inhaled and prolonged the theatrical pause. "It is enough. Let us not waste a perfectly decadent breakfast over trivial banter. Please, eat," he gestured to the set table and bountiful display of food. "Eat and let us enjoy each other's company. So, Elizabeth," he turned to the blonde and offered a warm smile. "How is work going?"

The blonde smiled, raised a hand and chatted away about a new client. Alois snorted annoyed but shot Ciel an apologetic smile when the former shot him a glare.

"And he is doing a _lady of loose morals_ on the side," Elizabeth said, using her fingers as inverted commas before picking up her fork again and attacking her scone once more. "He is loaded and basically, I am just an excuse for him to go and see his lady friend without his wife getting suspi-"

Ciel arched an eyebrow in surprise and made a hand gesture. "Something the matter?"

Elizabeth hesitated, put her cutlery down and laced her fingers under her chin. "I am not sure if I should talk about my running cases and clients."

Ciel breathed a laugh and exchanged a look with Alois, whom also grinned knowingly. "Whatever for?" The Earl asked, neatly putting down his cup before sitting back and crossing his ankle over his knee.

Elizabeth picked up her cup, shifted in her seat and sipped her tea. "With the current situation, I am positive you have used all the information I have given you to rob all my clients."

"Honestly?!" Ciel barked a laugh. "Whatever makes you think that?"

Elizabeth tilted her head and gave Ciel a meaningful look. "Please. I am no simpleton. It is still a miracle that Scotland Yard hasn't put those ends together yet. So no, we shall talk about my work no more. You are not using my clientele again like all the previous times. Let us talk about something more mundane, like Alois's little experiments," she said and shot the blonde male a cunning look.

Ciel smirked and now easily ignored the banter that derived from Elizabeth's pun. He just put his fingertips together and sunk into deep thoughts while Alois _occupied_ Elizabeth.

* * *

The rhythmic ticking of a clock thundered like a fanfare through his head and groping at his forehead, Sebastian groaned painfully. A high pitched voice tried to speak in a gentle tone but it failed horribly. It made little sense to him and he shook off the hand that was shaking his shoulder.

"Oh my, so grumpy," the voice mused and persistently kept shaking him. It stopped abruptly and somewhere in the background, Sebastian could distinguish a deeper tone of voice. One that belonged to his boss and he wondered what this unknown person _and _Claude were doing in his house. "It might be best if he doesn't see you like this," the clearer voice said and Sebastian felt that he was pulled to his feet and dragged across the room.

"Ah- what the-" He protested and gurgled loudly when fresh water was splashed in his face. He forced his eyes open and vaguely saw a red-headed figure bend over him. Blinking, the image cleared and bright green eyes gazed in his. He was so close that Sebastian could smell the mint on his breath.

"What the-" He exclaimed and pushed the person away. He struggled and squirmed until he was on hands and knees. He felt bile rise in his throat and after he gagged a couple of times, he threw up. He felt that someone rub his back and tell him to get it all out of his system. He hated the sympathy, especially when he knew that he alone was responsible for the state he was currently in. Still, he appreciated the attention and ceased from protesting when he was propped up against the wall and his chin got wiped.

"I heard of your rogue and ruffian reputation. I didn't know it was this bad," the person spoke and wiped another dribble off vomit off Sebastian's chin. "I am Grell Sutcliff, by the way. Your new partner." Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

"I told him I didn't need a partner."

Grell hummed and sat back. "They told me you were reluctant about this collaboration. I was quiet pleased to hear that I would get a chance to work with the notorious inspector Michaelis. You managed to wear partners out within hours, I am impressed."

Sebastian flashed him a crooked smirk and wiped his mouth. "Don't act all charming and easily impressed. I am well aware of the state I am in right now and that it is anything but not worthy of imprinting a good impression. Why don't you gallivant into some other direction and go annoy another inspector?"

Grell shook his head with a wide smirk, showing his strangely pointed teeth. "No, I specifically requested to work with you. I know of your bad reputation and your crude methods. I admire it greatly."

Sebastian tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow. "You're weird," he stated bluntly.

"And I found you drunk and high in your office. Not really entitled to label me," Grell pointed out flatly. Sebastian stared at him for a minute, blinking surprised before a smirk curled his lips.

"You've got spunk, kid. I like that, a lot. Alright," he lifted his arm and groped above his head until he grabbed a hold of the sink so he could hoist himself up. Finally standing, he shook his head and inhaled. "I need tea," he concluded. "And where are we, actually?" He asked after he briefly took in his surroundings.

"The bathroom," Grell answered, dusting off his pants. "I heard Chief Inspector Claude outside your office and I reckoned you wouldn't want him to see you in this state," he shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Partial images started to come back and Sebastian's lips twitched when he finally realized he was at the work and not at home.

"No, I would not," Sebastian admitted, even if it wouldn't be the first time Claude would find him in that particular state. He reached up and patted his clothes. He was wearing his coat, even if he did not remember putting it on again, or even leaving little China Town at all. The last thing he could remember vividly were the words that were penciled down on the back of the picture, and reaching inside his coat, he felt the sharp edges of the envelope and sighed relieved. He rolled his eyes to the red-head that smiled a little too hopefully at him.

"Get that idea out of your head," he said and made a hand gesture. Grell arched a confused eyebrow. "What idea?"

"That I will become some sort of mentor. I do not do that, simply because I already think you're annoying and I do not approve of this whole ridiculous idea of needing a partner to solve this case as soon as possible," he stated and pushed himself off the wall to stagger to the door. "I can do this on my own. I do not need a blasted nanny to look after me," he declared annoyed before tripping over his own feet. Grell shot forward and caught him before he knocked his head against the door. "Come again?" He punned with a grin. Sebastian gritted his teeth and scowled. "How convenient for you. Now get your hands off me."

Grell raised his hands in defense and stood back. "Look, Sir. I did not come here to play your nanny, because I am positive you can manage on your own. Somehow," he added and looked up and down his disheveled person. "I came here to learn, and to share my expertise. I never aspired a career at Scotland Yard, because it is all too bureaucratic for me. I am interested in this particular case, working with you is just a bonus. Now," he reached out his hand. "I hope we can start again."

Sebastian looked him up and down, taking him in as closely as he could with the massive headache that was making his head throb uncontrollably. At last, he reached out and shook his hand. "Very well. Now, I would be delighted if you would get me some tea; extra sugar," he added and turned to the door. Behind him, he could hear Grell clap his hands and cheer enthusiastically and he immediately regretted his decision. He opened the door and was instantly introduced to the busy morning bustle of the office. He groaned, sucked it up and walked on, followed by his new partner.

* * *

With much effort, he managed to stride to his office without tripping over his own feet, holding on to the authoritative position he held. Left and right, people turned his way and bombarded him with information. He shook his head, told them to come to his office in half an hour and simply yanked the documents they offered out of their hands. Only a few more steps and he would be in the comfortable and painless silence of his office. With a surge of deep satisfaction, he opened his door and spontaneously felt annoyance dawn on him.

"Ah, inspector," Claude smirked at him from where he was sitting on the edge of the desk. "Back from the dead I smell. You always manage to make such a lasting first impression."

Sebastian waved it away and stalked to his chair. "Spare me the snarky comments, because on the contrary, they are not funny," he growled and sank down, sighing almost delighted when his broken body eased down in the leather. "What is it you want?"

Claude got up and placed a hand on Grell's shoulder. "I just came to see if you already met your new partner. I see you haven't devoured him yet; I'm impressed."

Sebastian groaned and rubbed his temples. "Is there a point to this, because if you came here to pretend to be charming, I'd rather have you leave again. I have better things to do with my time."

Claude dropped the nice guy act immediately and sunk back into his stoic self, frown and set jaw right in place. Sebastian smirked and lifted a finger at him. "That is the Claude I know and love to hate." The Chief Inspector ignored the comment and tapped on the pile of files on Sebastian's desk.

"Have you made any progress yet?"

"Yeah," Sebastian scratched himself behind his ear. "If the previous inspectors hadn't made such a glorious mess out of this case, I might've been somewhere, but," he reached into his coat and retrieved the envelope. "I did receive this," and he showed Claude and Grell the picture. The latter arched a skeptical eyebrow at it. "So?"

"Turn it over," Sebastian snarled. Claude did, read the lines and couldn't help but chortled cold after. "Seems like they know you pretty well."

"Yes, which I find odd," Sebastian mused, ignoring the snarky pun and crossing his ankle over his knee. "Which leads me to believe that we have a leak in the office. Someone who is in on their criminal activities."

"Of course," Grell gasped amazed. "That is absolutely brilliant," he exclaimed after. "Well done Sir."

Sebastian gave his young partner a smug lopsided smirk. Claude didn't join in red-head's admiration and gave Sebastian a firm nod of acknowledgment. "Anything else?"

"Well," Sebastian pawed through the mess of papers on his desk and wondered what the hell he had been doing last night. After a moment, he found a piece of paper with scribbling on it. "Aha," he exclaimed triumphant. Claude took it from his hands, read it and waved it in front of the inspector's nose after.

"Seems like you have gibberish," he said flatly, and Sebastian squinted at the markings he had penned down. He too couldn't make any sense of them but tried to shrug it off, even if it had hurt him in his pride.

"It must've made sense to me last night."

"When you were off the far end," Claude pointed out and let the piece of paper go. It whirled down in a dramatically slow manner and landed on Sebastian's lap. He snatched it away, fumbled it up and tossed it to a corner of his office. Claude raised a threatening finger at him. "I want something good, and I want it fast. You'd best stay clear-headed throughout this investigation or the same will go for the Whitehall case. But this time, it will be definite," he affirmed in a menacing manner before striding out and slamming the door behind him.

Sebastian groaned, and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Grell smiled, his entire appearance too perky and bright for Sebastian's heavy hang over.

"Oh dear me, the way you talk to that guy," the red-head pointed over his shoulder before sinking down in the ratty chair opposite Sebastian. "You've got guts."

"It doesn't take guts to stand up against Claude Faustus," Sebastian said and searched the room with his eyes, looking for his left shoe he had apparently taken off last night. He smirked inwardly when he found it stuffed between his criminology books and stood up to get it. Grell leaned back, putting his arms behind his head and easing into the hostile environment Sebastian had created by still refusing to acknowledge him.

"So, what are we doing next, _partner_," the red-head said, and added a sassy wink. Visibly annoyed by him, Sebastian snorted, put his shoe on and straightened himself. "First, you will not even think about calling me your partner until I think you're a suitable lackey. Second, I really need to get some breakfast and the word on the street. Let us go," he said and stalked to the door.

Grell leaped up, turned, made a flamboyant signal with his hand and flashed him a grin, tongue sticking out. "Yes part- Sir," he said and skipped out. Sebastian rolled his eyes, muttered curses words under his breath and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

I do adore Claude-o like this. All prudish and according to the book. So _not _like him at all. He is one of the few who actually really breaks the rules horribly and gets hated for it. _Poor darling, I shall love and adore you forever, my dear Claude._

Please, do review. I need motivation, inspiration. I need to know I am doing this for something, or someone. I can only leave you with the guarantee that I am fully committing myself to Indebted and I shall not rest until I am back into that story and truly figured out the plot.

Review, my bizarre dolls. It'll only take a minute but it will last an enternity.


	5. File 05

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

New chapter, and I must say that I am very much pleased with this one. I wish the response to this story was more bountiful because I am _so _proud of it, but, I really appreciate all the readers who took the time out of their busy schedule to read and review this. _Thank you_.

Not much to add here. I will do a spelling check soon but after 2 hours of writing, my eyes are burning. So please, ignore the grammatical errors and all, because I know there might be some and I will look into that in about 3 to 4 hours.

For now, just enjoy!

O.

* * *

It was horrible. Completely horrible and Sebastian felt like it was a waste of his time working with Grell. His crimson eyes followed the red-head as he nearly floated through his office, organizing the complete chaos Sebastian had made last night. If for anything, he looked more like a secret admirer of his who skulked after him, eager to praise him with unjust words of glorification, wagged his tail when the inspector snarled at him and cleaned his office. The latter pleased him, but he couldn't take the off-key singing that accompanied the dusting of his bookshelves.

On the upside, it did mean that the flamboyant red-head was too occupied to interfere with his investigation, which was rapidly becoming his second biggest frustration. The Aberline brothers had made an indisputable mess of whatever they had attempted to investigate and Sebastian was troubled with another box of so-called witness testimonies that was magically conjured from a dusty corner in their office. If Sebastian had held a higher position in the Scotland Yard food chain, he would've fired their sorry asses faster than they could pull another box with even more hogwash testimonies.

With a sigh, he placed his throbbing head on top of the pile papers in front of him and allowed himself to close his eyes for a second. This morning, he and Grell had gone to the last bank that had been robbed. None of the employees could give them an accurate description of what the perpetrators looked like but all claimed they were hooded and wore weaponry. With each testimony, the choice of armor became even more gruesome and grotesque. Sebastian's patience only went so far and after someone claimed they had worn guns that shot fire, he ordered Grell to finish the ludicrous statements and he had gone outside for a smoke.

Empty handed, they had turned up at the office again only to find that annoying box Aberline had left on his desk. The inspector had wisely fled the scene to escape Sebastian's infamous scorn and Grell was the one left with the infuriated male. After a string of surprisingly varying curse words and creative usage of the word _fuck_, the red-head had shrugged and given the fuming male a sweet smile.

"I am sure they've tried their best," he had tried to smooth the situation over. Sebastian had wheeled around so fast that he nearly tumbled over. He had stepped forward and leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair Grell sat in. Flanked by the strong arms, the red-head had no manner of escaping, but searching for a way out wasn't even close to what was on his mind.

"Well their best wasn't good enough, was it?" Sebastian had concluded in an eerie calm voice. "It is the main reason that they stuck me with you."

Grell had leaned in until their noses nearly touched. His strangely electrifying eyes had twinkled playfully behind his red glasses and he opened his mouth to reply. The answer was something Sebastian had not expected.

"You smell awfully good," the red-head hummed and inclined his head, running his nose up Sebastian's neck. Their skin had briefly made contact and it had made Sebastian shudder. "What kind of cologne are you wearing, it's intoxicating."

Growling, Sebastian had shoved him back and had straightened himself. "Keep your appendages to yourself if you hold them dear," he had threatened in a malicious manner.

Grell crossed his legs and hunched over. Placing his elbow on his knee, he had cupped his cheek and grinned cheeky at Sebastian. "What is the matter, inspector? The heat getting too hot underneath your feet. I know you can feel the chemistry as well, it is as clear as day," he had teased while batting his lashes at the tall male. "Don't deny our mutual attraction."

Sebastian had calmly quirked an eyebrow at him and walked to his desk. Fanning out his fingers, he placed his fingertips on top of the desk and leaned down almost imperceptibly. "If anyone is in denial, it's you, and if I have felt anything, it was my breakfast coming up right now after that outrageous accusation of yours," he had clarified before sitting down.

Grell had faked a pout and ran his finger over his knee, drawing invisible circles while trying to look completely innocent. "That was not nice, Bassy. You hurt my feelings."

Sebastian's body had twitched at the ridiculous pet name Grell just uttered and he gritted his jaw in vexation. "It is inspector Michaelis or Sir. Keep your irksome pet names to yourself. It is already bad enough I have to work with you, so I will not tolerate such idiocy. As Claude said, we don't have time to dally, so get to work!"

"But you won't let me help you," the red-head had whined in return. Sebastian was visibly starting to lose his patience and angrily rubbed his temples.

"I let you interview those witnesses," he said. Grell had rolled his eyes at it.

"Only because it was a tedious job. You thought they were ignorant idiots, the lot of them," he had replied snarky. Sebastian had knitted his brows together as he tried to think of something else he had asked the young inspector to do.

"You fetched my tea, and you didn't screw it up. That was incredibly helpful."

Grell had snorted. "Not that, I mean real and honest police work. You refuse to let me help you with that, even if there might be a possibility that I can shed some new light on the old investigation."

Sebastian had huffed a chuckle. "If you can enlighten something on that long-winded and useless information, I'll eat my hat." Grell had perked up, greedily wagging his non existing tail like a young pup.

"Really? Would you let me?"

Sebastian had smiled mischievous and had kicked a box with documents Grell's way. "Be all means, be my guest," he said in his honey-like voice. Grell let out an excited squeal and bounced off his seat. When he attempted to take a step forward, he noticed how his shoe stuck to the old wooden floor. With a disgusted expression, he had begun to truly take in his surroundings and shuddered appalled.

"Nuhuh, this will not do," he had declared and took off his red velvet waistcoat and tie. "I cannot work in such a filthy pigsty," he said while rolling up his sleeves and placing his hands on his hips after. "I will need to clean this up first."

Sebastian had made a hand gesture to go ahead and had ignored the red-head from there on out. Now, in the late hours of the afternoon, his office smelled like a field of wildflowers and a cool breeze blew in through the open window.

"There. All in half a days' work," Grell sighed. Sebastian lifted his head of the papers and looked around. If it had been possible, the polished wood would have glistened in the light of the sinking sun. His eyes rolled over to the proudly beaming red-head and he granted him a small smile.

"Well done, perhaps you should run around with cleaning cloths more often," he sneered with a sarcastic smirk spreading across his face. Grell didn't seem to catch or simply ignored the snarky undertone of that comment and smiled brilliantly.

"I know right. I am so amazing," he gloated and gazed around the room, sighing satisfied and with a firm nod, he complimented himself again. "I am a true miracle worker. Who would've guessed that that rancid man cave could look like this."

"Yes, yes. Fantastic," Sebastian said in a dismissing manner before tapping the toe of his shoe against the box he had kicked Grell's way earlier. "I'd rather have you work than frolic through my office, loudly celebrating your accomplishment of cleaning it."

Grell stared motionless at the inspector, his mouth set in a hard line and his brows knitted together above his glasses. Soon, a smile spread across his face. "That was mean, Bassy," and he stuck out his tongue at the other male when he fumed and snarled not to call him that. "But don't worry," he waved his hand and squatted next to the box. "I was getting to it."

Sebastian looked up from below and watched the red-head eagerly open the box and dive into the useless files. Even if he refused to acknowledge that they had to work together, having him go through another box with endless and dreadful papers was quite useful and saved him precious time he could spend on working on his own theories. And if for anything, it kept him quiet for at least half an hour or more.

For the time being, it was completely silent in the office except for the sound of Sebastian's fountain pen scratching against the paper and Grell exhaling a tired sigh every now and then. When Sebastian was almost entirely absorbed in his own theories and had nearly forgotten the red-head was even there, Grell shot up from his chair and opened his mouth.

"I believe I found something, inspector."

Sebastian looked up from his work, raising a puzzled eyebrow at Grell. "Excuse me?"

"Here," Grell stood and walked around the desk. "That box held statements and testimonies from the people whose homes were burglarized," he said and placed several files on Sebastian's desk.

"Splendid," snorted the inspector sarcastically and slowly rolled him crimson eyes. "More unintelligible twaddle."

Grell waved his prejudiced assumptions away and tapped on the papers. "Most of what they said might have been useless prattle but, there is one thing they all had in common."

Sebastian cocked his head and looked at the young man's profile. "They're all rich and have been robbed. Well, I'll be damned. Your fine investigation skills brought us _so _much closer to closing this case."

Shooting a glare sideways, Grell rolled his eyes at the sardonic remark and shook his head. "No, not _that_," he spat venomously. "You really think I am some talentless little brat with no actual skill, do you?"

Sebastian cupped his chin and pretended to think about the words. "Yes, that sums up my thought pretty nicely. Like I told you, I don't need a partner because I can handle this perfectly on my-" He stopped talking when Grell pointed to encircled words in all the documents. Sebastian picked up the one in front of him and read them and all the files alike. "They all went to Noah's Ark?"

"There," Grell exclaimed and crossed his arms over his chest. "If that is not a fine piece of investigation right there, I do not know what is," he said and smirked smugly. Sebastian nodded slowly, his lips pursed while he overlooked the new development.

"This shines a whole new light on the entire investigation. The Aberlines really have done nothing but thumb twiddling if they didn't pick up on this," he said and gently put the file down before cocking his head to the gloating red-head. "Well done, Sutcliff. It seems to have misjudged you; you proof not to be entirely useless."

Grell's arrogant grimace dropped for a moment while he pouted. It was quickly restored and he shrugged nonchalant. "Not entirely the compliment I was counting on, but I'll take it."

Sebastian got up from his seat and pulled his coat off the back of his chair. "You should because my praise is not given lightly. Put on that ridiculous red mantle of yours and let us go."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sebastian buttoned up his coat and smoothened out his collar. "Whatever do you mean?" He asked with a suspiciously arched eyebrow. He did not like the wicked smile that spread across the red-head's face one bit.

"Your hat," Grell informed lightly. "Would you like some salt and pepper with it or do you prefere to eat it unseasoned?"

In silence, the two males stared at each other for a moment. After, Sebastian loosely wrapped his scarf around his neck and looked Grell directly in the eye. "I don't have a hat," he told him blankly and turned on his heels and stalked to the door. "Let us go now; we have a show to catch."

* * *

In the main hall, the peace and quiet had returned now that everybody had been assigned their own task. It was how Sebastian liked to see it and it briefly gave him a sense of accomplishment that he had managed to make it happen. His pride was soon replaced with another feeling when Claude's voice called out and dutifully forced him to stop and turn.

"Yes?" He said, irritation not so subtly laced through his voice. Claude halted, his golden eyes peering at him over his rimless glasses and an eyebrow arched in contempt.

"I do not appreciate of the tone you're taking with me," he said. Sebastian shrugged carelessly at it and cocked his head to the right.

"Was that all? I shall try to be more eloquent in your from now on."

Claude shook his head. "No you won't," he replied bluntly. Sebastian grinned amused at his boss's conclusion. "Yes, you're right. How very perceptive."

"With that said," Claude continued, moving away from the endless discussion about respect he and Sebastian carried on on a daily basis. "Where are you going." Sebastian frowned and crimson eyes met golden ones.

"Are you going to keep track of every time I leave the premises? That is new. It is already bad enough you gave me a nanny without you playing my mother," he scolded disrespectfully. Claude's expression remained an unmoved mask, free of any kind of emotion other than indifference.

"I am simply exercising orders from my superiors," Claude explained. "Something you should try to start doing as well hence forth," he added.

Sebastian shrugged disinterested. "Meh, I'm not such a diligent little office dog as you are," he sneered. "Well, tell your _superiors_ I am going to follow a new lead. Which reminds me," he turned his head and snapped his fingers at the secretaries. "Mey-rin, I need you to fix something for me."

"A new lead?" Claude asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "What kind of a new lead? Why haven't I been notified you're making progress?"

"Because I didn't know I had to brief you on every blasted breath I take. Mey-rin, I need two tickets for tonight's show of Noah's Ark," Sebastian told the mauve haired girl.

"Noah's Ark?" Claude repeated. "Whatever steered your investigation into that direction?"

"Sutcliff did… what is it, Mey-rin?" He snapped irritated. The girl's cheeks colored and instantly, she started to mumble and fidget with the hem of her blouse. Sebastian snorted impatiently. "Stop with the mumbling and get on with it."

"T-The circus is sold out, S-Sir," she stammered. "Me and Bard tried to g-get tickets but the first ones available are late next week."

Sebastian blinked at her for a moment, rendered entirely speechless. "Oh," he finally said and scratched the back of his head. "That is a damned setback."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance there. Wait here for a moment," Claude told him and went upstairs. Sebastian and Grell exchanged a glare. The former quickly looked away when the red-head cooed sweetly about how he told their supervisor how Grell had found the new lead, which instantly made Sebastian regret he didn't take the credit himself. Not before long, Claude returned and handed them an envelope.

"I was supposed to take Hannah to Noah's Ark tonight," he said and Sebastian grinned broadly when he peeked into the envelope and saw two tickets. "She will understand," Claude concluded.

"No she won't," Sebastian told him with a wide smirk. "But I could care less. Thanks."

"Bring me back something we can use," Claude called after them. Sebastian gave him a short wave in reply before he and Grell disappeared through the doors. The chief inspector stuffed his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit pants, gave the secretaries a short nod and turned on his heels, thinking of something to keep his fiancé out of his hair this evening while he stalked to the stairs.

* * *

A coach had taken Sebastian and Grell to a greener part of London. Even if it was another hour before the show started, the grounds were swamped with eager spectators, rich and poor alike and all with good reason. The lane that lead to the entrance of the main tent was lined with smaller tents that offered food, trinkets and games.

"Oh Bassy, come and see," Grell took his arm and dragged him along before Sebastian could protest. The seriousness with which he had presented the new evidence to him earlier had disappeared entirely and his flamboyant personality was reinstalled once more. They stopped at a funfair rifle range and Grell cupped his cheeks and wiggled in excitement. "Look at all those bitter rabbits, so cute," he cooed at Sebastian and grabbed his arm, bouncing up and down while pointing at the tent. "Win me one. Oh please, Bassy."

Sebastian yanked his arm out of the squeezing hands and brushed his sleeve. "Get yourself together, Sutcliff. We're here on official police business."

"But Bassy. I want one," Grell pouted. Sebastian gritted his teeth and raised a threatening finger at the red-head.

"If you call me that one more time, I will rip off your sack and feed it to you. Understood?"

Rendered speechless, all Grell could do was nod. Satisfied with the amount of fear he installed with the red-head, Sebastian dropped his arm alongside his body and looked left and right. "Now where can we get some decent food around here," he thought out loud and started walking. After another longing look at the stuffed animals, Grell followed him timidly.

At a stall down the lane, he bought him and Grell what the peculiar sales duo claimed to be delicious curry buns and two pints of ale. They ate and drank in silence, watching people gather in front of the closed entrance. Cocking his head, Sebastian studied the red-head's profile and was surprised at how quiet he had been over the past twenty minutes. For reasons he could not explain, he started to regret threatening him like he did, even if the male had deserved it. Clearing his throat, he caught Grell's attention.

"Look Sutcliff. I shouldn't have been that crude to you earlier. I am sorry," he said and took a large gulp of beer to wash away the bad aftertaste of the apology. Grell chuckled and dragged his fingers through his bangs.

"I suppose I should've been a little more respectful," he admitted. "You were right. We are on official business and I should behave professional. I am sorry as well."

Sebastian gave him a firm nod, wiped his mouth at the paper napkin and stood. "With that said. Shall we go and stand in line?" He suggested while fumbling up the stained napkin and dunking it into a nearby bucket. "Best check which row we're seated in," he mumbled while retrieving the envelope from his coat pocket.

The excited bustle escaped him and it wasn't until Grell squealed and bounced up and down excitedly that Sebastian looked up from the tickets.

"It's open," the red-head cheered, clapping and cheering. "It opened, Bas- Sir," he corrected himself but shook Sebastian's arm wildly nonetheless. Forgiving him just this one time, Sebastian let Grell drag him to the entrance and push his way to the front.

"I should've known," Sebastian said when he shoveled down the row and took his seat. "Strategically seated amongst the richest snobs of London. Claude is really going for it; ass-licking his way to the top."

Grell didn't even pick up on his sneering observation and glanced around the tent with wide-set eyes. When they landed on the person sitting directly across them, he gasped and reached besides him. "Sebastian. Do you see that?" He exclaimed loudly while tangling his fingers around the strap of Sebastian's shoulder holster.

"What?" Sebastian snapped him in a low voice, careful not to draw any attention to them. Grell shook him violently and pointed to the other side of the ring.

"That is him; the creator of the bitter rabbit," he nearly screamed. Sebastian reached out and slapped his raised finger down before smiling apologetic to the people whose attention had been drawn to the minor commotion.

"I am sorry. He's never been in a circus before-… will you be quiet," he snarled in Grell's ear. The red-head shook his head and looked at him with big eyes.

"But it's him," he argued again, vigorously nodding to the left. Sebastian lifted an eyebrow at him.

"That looks charming. Seems like you have a bad tic," he commented sarcastically. Grell snorted in a most unbecoming manner and shot Sebastian an angry frown.

"I'm trying to tell you that the creator of the bitter rabbit and the director of the Funtom company, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, is sitting right across from us," he hissed before turning to look at the male. He cupped his cheeks and sighed delighted. "He's my idol."

Sebastian frowned and looked ahead, trying to spot out the person Grell was talking about. After a second, his eyes made contact with a set of bright cobalt blue ones. They stared in his, as if they had been looking at him all along and the intensity of them was almost frightening. Averting his attention from the eyes, he focused on the entire person. On his smart clothing, the slate hair and fair face. His entire body jolted when his eyes landed on the lips and he recognized them as the plump and sensual ones he had jerked off on yesterday. They curled into a charismatic grin and Sebastian had to look away to catch his breath.

"Doesn't he look amazing," Grell dotted on. "His parents died half a year ago, brutally murdered. The poor thing, shy from an aunt, he is all alone in this world at the age of nineteen. You know, I think he's the only rich aristocrat that hasn't been burglarized."

Sebastian snapped his head around. He had instantly regained his ability to think straight and zeroed in on the young male across from him. "The only one who wasn't burglarized? Interesting," he mused. Grell nodded fierce and continued.

"But, I reckon most of his assets are locked in his company and in funds. He wouldn't have much thing of value at home worth stealing. He is one of the few aristocrats that is intelligent enough not to hog all sorts of expensive trinkets and jewelry," Grell blurted for everyone in a two feet radius to hear. Sebastian, like Grell, was oblivious to the disgruntled looks and studied Ciel intently.

"Most interesting," he whispered again before the lights in the ring died down and the ring master made an exhilarating appearance in the middle of the ring by seemingly emerging out of thin air.

"Good evening, honored ladies and gentlemen. I am Joker, and I will be your guide through the mystic world of enchantment tonight. Allow me to take you on a journey that'll tickle your senses and opens up your mind to the fantastic world of Noah's Ark."

The show unleashed a smashing impression upon the audience by starting with an thrilling lion show. The tamer was thrown into a group of untamed lions and tamed every single one up to the point where he could stick his head between their wide open and sharp jaws. It continued with a snake charmer, a fire-eater, trapeze artists and what not. Sebastian saw little of the show as his eyes kept focusing on the young Earl. Likewise, Ciel's bright eyes kept gazing into his, completely ignoring the magnificent spectacle as well.

Before realizing it, the lights turned up and the audience stood up, clapping and cheering loudly for the bowing artists. Sebastian blinked, got to his feet and clapped absentmindedly. In the brief second he didn't hold eye contact with the Earl, he and his company had disappeared. Frantically, he snatched his coat from the chair and hissed at Grell that they had to go.

"But, the encore," Grell protested.

"Now, Sutcliff," Sebastian snarled and pushed his way past insulted aristocrats. Grell followed, also not bothering to apologize and highly peeved at being forced to leave early.

Outside, coaches were waiting to take their masters home. Sebastian looked left and right and spotted Ciel walking to one of the waiting coaches. He sighed relieved and turned to Grell. "You want to meet your idol?"

"What?" Grell asked puzzled. Sebastian didn't explain anything, grabbed his wrist and dragged him across the field.

* * *

"Earl Phantomhive."

Ciel stopped in his trail and looked over his shoulder. The blonde that accompanied him turned to look at the slate haired male and hissed something to him. Ciel simply raised a gloved hand to stop him from talking and smiled politely at the approaching duo.

"Good evening," he greeted when Sebastian and Grell were close enough to hear. "How can I help you, gentlemen?"

Sebastian had to put all his effort into ignoring the sensual lips and managed to offer him the same fake smile while Grell clutched his lip and mumbled gibberish.

"I am terribly sorry to bother you," Sebastian lied and retrieved his badge from his coat. "Inspector Sebastian Michaelis of Scotland Yard. This hopeless mess is my partner Grell Sutcliff."

Ciel threw Grell a kind smile upon which the red-head whimpered before his cobalt blue eyes focused on the raven-haired male again. "Scotland Yard. My, this must be serious. How can I be of service, officers?"

"I would like to ask you about the recent burglaries," Sebastian said while putting his badge away. For a brief second, his eyes darted to the blonde to spot any uneasiness in his face but like Ciel's, it was a mask of serenity with a hint of indifference.

"What about them, inspector? I have not been robbed. How can I be of any help in this matter?"

"It is not necessarily how you can be of help, but how can be of help to you," Sebastian said. "You see, there is an undeniable link between all the households that have been burglarized and that is this," he gestured to the tent. "Days after they went to this circus, houses have been burglarized."

"Really?" Ciel said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You don't say."

"Ay," Sebastian replied. "I reckon this is your first visit to the circus?"

"As a matter of fact, it is not," Ciel replied calmly. "Alois and I have attended this show over a dozen times already; he likes the fire effects," Ciel said with a small chuckle. The blonde at his side huffed and crossed his arms but did not reply verbally. "Also, I am a great beneficiary of this circus," Ciel added. "Your assumption seems almost preposterous."

"Which assumption would that be, Earl Phantomhive?" Sebastian asked in his honey-like voice. Ciel squinted at him and returned the handsome smirk of the inspector with one of his own.

"That this circus has anything to do with those vile burglaries. These people are artists, and I vouch for every single one of them. From the papers, I came to understand that the investigation has turned up fruitless up till now, but this is truly grasping at last straws."

"Perhaps," Sebastian replied. "Perhaps you are right, Earl. I thank you for your time and I will leave you with the fair warning to keep a wary eye on your front door. The burglars might come knocking soon."

Ciel inclined his head almost imperceptibly and smiled. "I wish I could've been of more assistance, inspector. I do hope you solve this case and bring it to a just end. Good day," he greeted and left with Alois.

"I love you," Grell blurted. Sebastian glanced sideways, rolled his eyes with a weary sigh and grabbed the dreamily gazing red-head by the collar.

"Get over it, Sutcliff," he cursed while dragging him off.

"What in blazes was that?" Alois snarled when he was sure the inspector was gone. Ciel calmly walked on, followed by the fuming blonde. "Are they onto us?!"

"Calm down, Alois," the Earl said.

"Calm down?! He sought us out, specifically. How can I calm down?"

"Because it is a mere coincidence," Ciel told him. "Some of the aristocrats might've mentioned what they had done in the days prior to the robberies but there is not a single thing that can tie the circus to the burglaries."

"Are they onto us?"

Alois and Ciel turned to the voice and Joker emerged from the shadows, his brows knitted together and his mouth set in a hard line. Ciel shook his head, chuckling.

"Look at you two, acting like frightened little girls. Although, I must admit that is was quiet unexpected to see them turn up here," he mused and for a second, he seemed lost in thought. After, he smirked and opened the door to his coach. "To deceive him will be an awful big adventure," he said before disappearing into the dark carriage.

* * *

THEY MEET! THEY MEET!

Ok, I am sorry, it had be said like that. Many of you wondered when, and now is the time. Sebastian saw the plump lips again and naturally, they had belonged to Ciel. What else? As George Clooney would say.

There, I hope you enjoyed this development.


	6. File 06

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

First; I would like to thank all the sweet people who have reviewed. It always has and always will mean a lot. Secondly, I am going to work on an Indebted update tomorrow so, keep your mailboxes in check if you're a fervent reader of this story.

This chapter will show a little more of Claude's personality and how he thinks and feels. A little more revealing than that stoic mask he always seems to wear. (And which he pulls of perfectly if I might add)

Nothing more to say but for you all to enjoy!

O.

(Spelling check will follow)

* * *

It was around ten that evening when Claude left his office with intents to go to a local inn and get himself a nice pint and a room. Giving the first rank Noah's Ark tickets to Sebastian had unleashed a vast rage in his fiancé and she had stormed off, telling him to not show his face at home that evening. Her anger had done little to nothing to the Chief inspector. In fact, he never truly cared about her opinions or emotions and was only annoyed by them which was starting to worry him, and not even because of the consequences his indifference had on Hannah as much as the way he would lie awake at night, imagining what it would be like to have a naked male figure by his side.

He had condemned those ludicrous thoughts and banned them entirely, blaming them on his young age back in the days, but as he grew older, those urges only seemed to become stronger. He had done everything right; he finished his education with outstanding recommendations from his professors. He had worked hard and became the youngest Chief inspector in the history of Scotland Yard. He had found a gorgeous and charming woman who gallivanted prettily at his arm and did well in his social circles, but still, the feeling of not being satisfied with any of it was enough to make him wonder if fighting for a position in which he had to keep up a charade was worth the effort of having to spend his life with a woman.

The entire upper floor was abandoned, as usual at this late hour. The Commissioner and Constable had long gone home, leaving Claude to take care of their paperwork like they had done every day since he had gained the position of Chief inspector. He was used to it, but there were times when he wanted to act a little more like Sebastian Michaelis and yell at the two that they were incompetent idiots. He would never admit this to the inspector in question, nor that he sometimes dreamed of him at night and woke up with a massive boner. The thought of it made him sick, just like the idea how much Sebastian would gloat at his misery.

Descending down the stairs, the officers of the night shift jumped to their feet to salute him, showing their respect. Claude gave them a nod, silently giving them permission to be at ease and sit down. It the corner of his eye, he saw the lights were still on in Sebastian's office and assuming the worst, he marched over and opened the door without knocking.

"What are you-" He stopped when a very much sober looking Sebastian gazed up from his work, his eyes tired and bloodshed and his entire figure shaking from withdrawal.

"Yes?" He asked, and when no snarky comment followed, Claude cleared his throat, stepped inside and closed the door. He strode to the desk and leaned down on it.

"What are you doing here at this hour?"

Sebastian yawned shamelessly and took a gulp of tea before answering. "Going over witness statements. Sutcliff found the first helpful lead amongst them, and perhaps if I take a closer look, I will see something I overlooked earlier."

Claude frowned and without a word, he watched the inspector check every file carefully, rereading each sentence two times. "Ok, stop," he said and slammed a hand down on the papers Sebastian was holding. The male looked up and blinked a little surprised at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Stop this. The insecurity. It is not like you and frankly, it looks very ugly on you," Claude said and carelessly gathered the files and dumped them in the box next to Sebastian's desk.

"I was reading that," Sebastian pointed out wearily. Claude shook his head and leaned down until his golden eyes zeroed in on Sebastian's crimson ones.

"You're a fine inspector. The best one I've had in years. If there had been something of importance in those files, you would've sought it out already."

Sebastian sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "I know that, but-"

"Sutcliff finding the first clue hurt you in your professional pride," Claude finished for him. Sebastian remained motionless for a second before admitting it with a short nod. Claude grinned at the confession. Sebastian rolled his eyes annoyed and sat back, crossing his arms.

"I am sure you have been anticipating this chance to gloat at my failure," he snarled. Claude chortled and sank down in the chair opposite the inspector.

"I must admit that it is almost endearing to see you take this so seriously. Almost makes me believe you're not as indifferent as you like people to believe. But, rest assure that I am positive that if you had gone through that box yourself, you would've found that connection as well. You are an outstanding inspector, and that is why every new one who applies here requests to work with you; you're setting new standards and prove that not all police officers care only for a seat at the mayor's table at some charity banquette."

"I suppose," Sebastian replied and chortled a little when Claude used the pun he had used on him yesterday.

"Besides. I am almost certain you were working on your own theories surrounding this case, made up out of the statements and testimonies that you went over," Claude continued. Sebastian slowly dragged his thumb over his bottom lip and nodded absentmindedly. "Very well. Let us discuss those over a pint of beer. Come on," Claude got to his feet. "I'm buying.

Sebastian smirked, got up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Just the way I like my beers," he said and turned the light down on his desk and followed his boss, locking his office on his way out.

"Have a good night, inspector Faustus and Michaelis," Bard greeted when they got outside, tapping his cap as a sign of respect. Each replied with a short nod and a reserved smile before walking down the steps. The street was bustling with life, from people leaving the theatre to drunks stumbling after a whore who lured them into a dark alley.

* * *

After aimlessly walking around for ten minutes, Sebastian glanced sideways at the profile of his boss. "Where exactly are we going?"

"I don't know," Claude replied. "I am not very familiar with this part of town," he admitted truthfully. Sebastian arched and eyebrow at him and shook his head.

"You don't get out much, do you? let us go this way," he said and pointed to a busy alley and quickly entered one of Sebastian's regular pubs. They easily pushed their way to the bar and were greeted cheerfully by the jolly barkeep.

"The usual, Humphrey. And make it two. Anything eatable on the menu tonight?"

"Bangers and mash with green peas," he boomed over the loud crowd. Sebastian stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a nearby candle. "Two of those as well."

"Right away," he replied and screamed at the kitchen before getting them their pints. They skipped a friendly toast and instantly took a large gulp, each for their own personal reasons.

"I assume Hannah wasn't pleased with you giving away the tickets," Sebastian concluded after his first sip and wiped the fluids off his upper lip with the back of his hand. Claude replied with a short nod, set the glass at his lips and drank until the it was empty. Sebastian smirked, mimicked his action and ordered two more.

"That is of no importance right now," Claude pointed out flatly and curled his fingertips around the edge of his new glass of beer. "Pray tell, what have you been working on?"

Sebastian shrugged in a languid manner and stared at the still amber liquid in the glass in front of him. "I have been over all the records. Every statement, and every interrogation and there is one thing that stroke me as odd."

"Which is?" Claude asked before averting his eyes to the two plates that were dropped down on the bar. It looked like working class food, something made of meat and mashed potatoes and peas. Sebastian dug in without hesitation and gulfed down half of the plate in three bites.

Glancing sideways, he saw Claude study the food with his nose crinkled in disgust while he poked it repeatedly with his fork. "You're not hungry?" He asked with a mouthful of vegetables.

"I'm not sure," Claude replied.

"I know it's not steak au poivre, but it tastes good," Sebastian said and swallowed. "Besides, you're going to need it when you keep jugging back those pints."

"I can hold my own when it comes to drinking a beer, thank you very much," Claude hissed before he jammed his fork in a sausage, brought it to his lips and sank his teeth in, brutally tearing off a piece. "This actually tastes good," he said in between chewing.

"I know that," Sebastian confirmed and attacked his own sausages in the same violent manner. It had been hours since he ate and his body was craving something. He knew it was opium, but it was crucial for him to stay clearheaded, more or less. Claude put his fork down and washed his food away with another gulp of beer.

"So, let us discuss your progress."

But there would be no talk of the investigation. It was forgotten completely. The drinks were too bountiful and stubbornly trying to keep up with Sebastian made Claude as drunk as a lord by midnight. In the end, Sebastian had to take it upon himself to pull a too friendly blonde and blue-eyed boy off the Chief inspector. Claude was anything but pleased with this and after several attempts, he finally pushed himself to his feet with help of the table.

"Micha-ealis," he slurred and raised a threatening finger at him. Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at him and caught his boss when Claude took a step forward and tripped over his own feet.

"Time to go," he concluded and slung Claude's body over his shoulder like a ragdoll. He fished the male's wallet out of his back pocket, paid their tab and proceeded to walk home.

* * *

The morning came early and unforgiving, with the sunlight shining bright through the skylight. Claude groaned in agony and threw his arm over his eyes. He would have to remind himself that when his head stopped throbbing, he had to scold Hannah for opening up the curtains already while he was still asleep. He turned over and draped his arm over what he thought was the empty spot next to him. Instead, he felt warm flesh and toned muscles. Carefully he opened one eye and he did not need his glasses to see who was laying next to him.

"Ah!" He jolted back, eyes wide open in shock at the undressed Sebastian next to him. The male was still fast asleep, blissfully ignorant to the precarious situation they were in.

"Michaelis?" Claude hissed and shook him once. Sebastian just groaned, turned on his other side and slept on peacefully. "Michaelis!" He called louder and shook him a little more. Sebastian smacked the hand away. Infuriated, Claude kicked him and hollered his name.

"I already heard the first two times and me ignoring you should've been answer enough," Sebastian snarled and turned to look over his shoulder. "What?"

"What am I doing here?" Claude asked and swallowed. "Naked?" He added in a low hiss.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow at him, turned on his back and propped up on his elbows. "You mean that you don't remember?"

"Obviously," Claude quipped. "What happened?"

Sebastian sighed, sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Claude swallowed the moan that welled up in his chest when he saw the strong muscles of Sebastian's back move when he pushed himself off the bed and sauntered to his tiny kitchenette. He rummaged through the pocket of his coat, retrieved a cigarette and lit it.

"We went to a pub last night and you drank too much; so, I brought you here," Sebastian shrugged, nonchalance in the entire gesture and blew out a huff of tobacco.

Claude's golden eyes glide over his figure. He was shirtless, but had his pants on still. He did not know if he found it more comforting or annoying. He shook his throbbing head and cupped it in his hand. "And after that?"

"After what?" Sebastian repeated.

"After we came back here," Claude snarled frustrated. Sebastian's face was puzzled and it fanned the other male's vexation even more.

"I have no idea where you're going with-"

"Did we have sex?!" Claude blurted at last. Crimson eyes blinked at golden ones. Neither spoke for minutes at an end and when Claude finally summoned the courage to open his mouth, Sebastian threw his head in his neck and laughed loudly. It rendered Claude entirely speechless and all he could do was glare harsh while the other male turned, leaned down on the counter and slapped the wooden top layer.

"I can hardly see the fun in this," Claude commented when Sebastian had toned down to snickering. The male turned to him and smirked animated.

"You're priceless."

"That does not answer my question," Claude retorted and nervously fidgeted with his fingers. Sebastian cleared his throat and sucked at his smoke.

"No Claude; we did not have sex. It's not that you did not try, but dead drunk and desperate guys are not really my type."

"Then how do you explain this?" Claude motioned to his naked form.

"You did that all by yourself," Sebastian said in a matter of fact tone. "The minute we came in, you started to undress yourself and accuse me of interrupting your night of fun and that I now had to fill in for the boy."

Claude frowned and looked up. "What boy?"

"The one you were getting particularly friendly with at the pub. Be glad I intervened, who knew what he was carrying, and I am not talking about pistols or cutlasses," he told him in a most serious tone of voice.

Claude pushed his digits in his bangs and tried to remember, but all he could recall were loose fragments. In his desperation to remember what happened, he neglected to think about the absolute worst consequence of his night of debauchery, but when it hit him, it came hard and made him extremely nauseas.

When Sebastian caught air of the wounded pride of his boss, he extinguished his smoke in a nearby ashtray, walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. Claude stared at the old planking, eyes wide-set and doing his best not to throw up.

"What have I done," he whispered. Sebastian rested his elbows on his knees and hunched over, putting his fingertips together.

"Nothing I haven't already long done, and probably even worse and more frequent."

"I am not you," Claude answered through clenched jaws. "And this is not me."

Sebastian looked over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest, last night was the first time I have actually seen you smile; a genuine smile. You seemed happy with that kid."

"Shut up!" The male snarled. Sebastian ignored it and continued.

"I know you think a mundane and bourgeois life is part of getting in the highest circles of society and to make it as Constable at the office, but, is living a life of lies truly worth it?'

"Could you listen to me for once?" Claude snapped. "You know nothing about me. I am not like that. I am not one of them. I have a fiancé, and I will marry her and we will-"

"At what cost," Sebastian interrupted him. Gritting his teeth, Claude stared in his crimson eyes, trying to find something clever to say. Sebastian looked him straight in the eye, sighed and got to is feet. "There is no shame in being different. But rest assure that none will ever hear about this night, nor your secret."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Claude muttered. "And even so, I am somehow sure you will find a way to use all of this against me."

"You really think that low of me?" Sebastian smirked. "But admitted, normally, I would make good use of information like this. But here, there is nothing for me to gain."

"You could ask me to remove Sutcliff from your side."

"Meh," Sebastian stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and gazed out the window. "He is a fine enough inspector. But don't ever tell him I said that, because I would never see the end of it."

Claude breathed a weak grin, tilted his head and looked up at the other male. "Do I have your word on this?" Sebastian cocked his head to the side, grinned and shook Claude's hand.

"Naturally."

"Well than," Claude shoved the glasses up the bridge of his nose. "With that said. Do you have something against a terrible headache?"

Sebastian tilted his head back and smirked amused. "Only the finest drug on this side of Britain. Lay down and wait here while I go get it."

Claude frowned suspicious and his eyes followed the male into the small bathroom. "Not anything I have to smoke or inject, is it?"

Sebastian, who had returned with a glass of water, snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Just hold out your hand." Claude told as instructed and Sebastian dropped two pills in his hand. "Aspirin, best thing around. Here," he handed him the water as well. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to shower before work. Care to join?"

Claude almost choked on his water at those words and did not look up when he snarled. "That is anything but funny!"

Sebastian chuckled malicious. "Suit yourself," he said, turned on his heels and marched to the bathroom. "I'll leave the door open just in case," he teased on.

"Shut up!" Claude snarled. "You gave me your word."

"Ay, I did. Not to mention this to anyone else or to blackmail you with it. Teasing does not show in that line," he told his boss from the doorway and winked cheeky before closing the door anyway.

"Bastard," Claude grumbled and let his sick body fall back into the soft mattress and Sebastian smelling sheets. He badly wanted to grab his pillow and inhale his fragrance deeply, but forbade himself to do so and just stared at the ceiling until Sebastian returned, smartly dressed in a black pants and a clean white shirt. "All yours," Sebastian told him while working on his cufflinks and putting on a matching waistcoat. "Try not to throw up in my bath."

"Thanks for that unnecessary warning," Claude mumbled while he clumsily wrapped the sheet around his waist and staggered to the bathroom. He felt bile rise in his throat but refused to give in and swallowed vigorously. Sebastian watched him struggle but when he offered to help, Claude refused bluntly, stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door. Sebastian would not mention that he heard him throw up in the toilet bowl.

* * *

The walk to the office was silent, and the normal amount of distance and indifference had been restored between them without a word. Before entering, Claude threw him a cold look, Sebastian understood and followed him inside. It was still early, and he now had his office to himself still. He wiped clean his blackboard, picked up and piece of chalk and kept writing until he heard the most cheerful greeting he had ever had the displeasure of hearing.

"A good morning. Such a glorious day," Grell chirped. "Did you see that layer of ice on the Thames. I was nearly tempted to go skating."

"You should've gone," Sebastian replied harshly before standing back and looking at his work. Grell hung his coat and walked up to look over his shoulder.

"What are we working on?"

"A theory," Sebastian replied and stepped forward to adjust something.

"What theory?" Grell walked to the board and cupping his chin, he read the scribbling. "Oh, this is impossible. You should either work on your handwriting or become a doctor. Nobody can translate this to the normal British language."

"It is not really necessary for you to get it, as long as I do," Sebastian replied snarky. Grell whipped around and pouted at him.

"You're excluding me again, even after our fruitful collaboration yesterday."

"You were drooling over Earl Phantomhive and you told him you love him; how in blazes is that useful?" Sebastian cried out. Grell pursed his lips and clasped his hands together.

"But he is so… a-mazing," he cooed. When Sebastian quirked an irritated eyebrow at him, he instantly slid back into his professional character and crossed his arms. "What is your theory?"

"Well," Sebastian put the chalk down, dusted off his hands and sat down on the edge of his desk, arms crossed while staring at the chalkboard. "The Aberlines automatically assumed that this was done by someone from the working class."

"They did," Grell agreed. "It is only natural. Who else could've done it?"

Sebastian raised his hand, palm out to stop him from speaking further. "These jobs have been done with such precision. They needed someone brilliant enough to plan this, and generally, people from the working class did not enjoy a good education."

Grell thought about it for a moment. "Interesting. Hadn't looked at it like that," he murmured before fully focusing on Sebastian again.

"So, they have already researched and interrogated all the scum of the London sewers and none came up suspiciously or have ensued large and peculiar lifestyles after the robberies," Sebastian turned his eyes to the board. "But nobody has ever bother to investigate the rich."

"That is superfluous," Grell pointed out. "Why would they rob their own kind if they already have everything?"

"Why indeed?" Sebastian mused. "But why does a black widow eat her partner after the mating?"

Grell's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he chortled a little. "That literally makes no sense."

"Exactly," Sebastian exclaimed. "It does not make any sense, that is why it would be so brilliant," he walked around his desk and wrote something down on a piece of paper. "I want an updated and accurate list of all the people who suffered great loses and those who have not be targeted, starting with," he hesitated or a moment before writing down the name and encircling it. "Starting with Earl Ciel Phatomhive."

* * *

Yes, Sebastian was onto something. He is a fine detective, and as proven, he can be sort of sober if he needs be.

I pity Claude. I truly do. Most people use him as the villian in their stories and I love him as a classic ass of an gentlemen but, I am starting to adore and dot on this personality I created. So proud and bureaucratic, keeping up that appearance must bring along a certain level of emotionally unstableness. But, do not make a mistake, Sebastian and Claude will not become regular bar friends or besties in this story. This was merely a crack in his facade, and I hope I pulled it off.

Review, please.. give me something to write for.

With love, O..


	7. File 07

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

A slightly longer chapter this time. For those who have been anticipating another meeting between Sebastian and Ciel, I hope this satisfies your needs.

As usual, I would sincerely like to think all those lovely readers who took the time to review my humble and mediocre story. I do hope I can keep on counting on your undying and unwaffering support that inspired and drives me so.

Enjoy, and for all of you, Happy Paddy's day! Have a Guinness or two for me!

O.

* * *

Sebastian stepped out of his office and closed the door with a weary sigh. Moments after he revealed his theory to Grell, the red-head had taken such a run with it that by now, the entire high and mighty society of London was secretly involved with the robberies for their own sheer entertainment. It was ludicrous, even if he had briefly enjoyed Grell's spot on imitation of the mayor.

He walked to the broad winding stairs, and found that it was more than peculiar that he walked up the steps without having the feeling he was floating. The instant the thought of opium crossed his mind, the tremors he had been trying to ignore become more disturbing. The withdrawal was getting worse with every passing hour but now that he had a good lead, he was persistent to follow it, clearheaded.

At the top, Hannah looked up from the papers she was rearranging. Her indigo eyes squinted, dangerously lurking at him from under her long lashes. She was infuriated, a vexed blush splattered across her normally pale cheeks. Her elegant nose rose in a snobbish manner and her voice was as cold as he had never heard before when she acknowledged his presence. For a brief second, he stood frozen, mesmerized at how indifferent she was being for once. After that, a sly grin curled his lips and he walked on.

"Good morning Hannah," he greeted cheerfully and opened the door to Claude's office. He felt her ice cold gaze in his back but spared it little attention while poking his head around the door. Claude hadn't noticed his unannounced appearance and seemed to be right in the middle of a staring contest with the mug of tea in front of him. He looked beaten, his eyes tired and red and his normally slick hair a disarray. Sebastian threw the door wide open and leaned against it.

"Knock knock," he called, emphasizing the harsh ruffling sound his knuckles made against the wooden door. Claude groaned pained in affirmation. Sebastian wheeled around on his heels and with the door knob in his hand, he caught Hannah's attention by whistling through his teeth. "Thank you for the tickets. The circus was good enough entertainment," he informed her with a sly smirk. Upon closing the door, he heard a muffled thud when the object Hannah threw at him collided with the wood. He shrugged uninterested, turned and strolled to the desk.

"What do you want?" Claude moaned, tilting his throbbing head from the supporting comfort of his cool hand. Sebastian sank down in the comfortable chair opposite his boss and crossed his ankle over his knee.

"I came to inform you about the progress on the investigation."

Claude frowned, his nose crinkled in vexation. "Why?" He asked, sincerely surprised why his inspector choose today of all days to keep him informed about his progress.

"Last night, we were supposed to discuss my theory. I have worked out the details so I came here to bring you up to date on the course of the investigation." Claude stared blankly at him for a couple of moments. It was not until Sebastian coughed subtly that he snapped out of it, cleared his throat and laced his fingers together on top of the desk, putting every effort into focusing on the inspector.

"Right. Tell me all about it."

Hannah had been sitting on the edge of her seat, trying to listen in on the conversation that took place behind the closed door of her fiancé's office. It was nearly impossible, and she only caught the occasional fragment or mumble.

This morning, when Claude had come in, it had seemed as if he was looking right through her. She had demanded he'd give her an explanation, but it never came. Claude told her to get him his tea and had disappeared into his office. Stubbornly, she had intentionally neglected to arrange the usual plate of fresh baking goods and barged through the door. Claude had been sprawled over the desk, moaning painfully and cupping his forehead. If she did not know her fiancé any better, she could've sworn he had an hang over.

"Claude. I want an explanation," she had demanded in a firm tone; her hands on her hips to try and take an authoritative stand.

Claude had lifted his head, raised a finger and hissed in a low and threatening tone. "You'd best be out of that door real soon because I cannot stand in for the consequences if you persistently keep whining like the birdbrain you are."

"But-"

"Out!" Claude had snarled viciously, pointing a trembling finger at the doorway. She had swallowed her pride, nodded and turned on her heels. She had slammed the door and pushed her back against it. There had been a time when she found pride in being betrothed to Claude Faustus, but with the times that he was completely indifferent towards her becoming more frequent, she started to fear for her future marriage.

Now, she was trying to find out what he was thinking when he gave the tickets to the circus away; a social event she had been looking forward to for months. Inside sources informed her that the Earl of Phantomhive would be attending, one of _the_ upper class mysteries she had been dying to see and join the social grapevine to discuss his attendance.

A door opened behind her and she jumped up, straightening her back and putting on a fake smile. Constable Grey and Commissioner Randall walked out, lost in amused chatter.

"We are out, Hannah," the young Constable neatly placed a stack of files on the edge of her desk and drummed on it. "Could you make sure Faustus handles these before end of the-"

"YOU WHAT?!"

The Constable fell silent and all eyes turned to the door of Claude's office. It was violently pulled open and a disheveled looking Claude stormed out, barking intelligible insults at a sober looking Sebastian who sauntered after him in a calm manner.

"How could you? What are you? The Earl of Phantomhive?" Claude roared. Sebastian stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, nonchalance in the entire gesture.

"It is the most reasonable explanation."

"Reasonable? Bloody hell; are you bonkers? Let me see this theory of yours, now!"

"Gladly," Sebastian responded and lead the way down the winding stairs, Claude pursuing him a little more hesitant while he clung to the banister for balance. The three were left upstairs, blinking surprised and completely ignored.

"What in blazes was that about?" Randall grumbled. Hannah shook her head without a word. Constable Grey, however, turned on his heels and marched back into his office. The Commissioner followed dutifully but was left out in the cold when the door was slammed in his face. Hannah bit her lip to keep herself from giggling at his dumbfounded expression. Randall composed himself, dusted off his frock coat and growled a meaningless greet before stomping down the stairs.

* * *

Grell yelped shrill and jumped to his feet when Claude barged through the door, fuming curse words and repeatedly telling Sebastian what kind of a daft idiot he was. Sebastian closed the door quietly and strolled to the board. He threw a quick look sideways at the stiffly saluting Grell, rolled his eyes and told him to stop acting like a retard. The red-head slacked for only a second but jumped right back into position when his boss passed. Claude paid little attention to it and studied the unhinged notes on the board.

"Is this supposed to mean anything?" Claude remarked irked. Sebastian nodded, stepped forward and pointed to several bits of text.

"After examining all the evidence, covering all statements and reports of interrogations, I could only draw one conclusion that made perfect sense," he tapped his knuckle against the board. "It started with the rich, and come full circle, it ends with them as well."

"And that is your most logical explanation?" Claude scoffed. "Remember when I told you that you were a decent inspector; I take that back, every last word. Care to explain _why _the rich would be so inclined to steal from their own kind?" He hissed through gritted teeth.

Sebastian's mouth turned to a thin stripe. "That I don't know yet."

"I figured as much," Claude commented. "With that clarified, what would've been your next move to proof this absurd theory of yours?"

"Gone to the Earl of Phantomhive, naturally," Sebastian answered flatly. Claude quirked an eyebrow at him, his expression entirely unreadable for a moment before a grin curled his lips. Shaking his head, he chuckled low.

"And done what? Knocked on the door and accused him of theft?"

"Perhaps," Sebastian shrugged. "As I have just finished putting all the loose ends together, I have yet to consider my next course of action." Claude licked his smirking lips and continued in a mocking tone of voice.

"I gather that after that wild accusation based on badly conducted research from the former leading inspectors, he would gladly open his home for you to search for the stolen goods." Sebastian frowned, sat on the edge of his desk and pushed his hands in his pockets.

"It is a theory, one that should be considered and researched. But by all means, if you're not too busy licking the boss's posterior, I am sure you can come up with another brilliant explanation."

Claude froze and his eyes bulged for a second. When he spoke again, his superior air had left him entirely and his voice was free of its former mocking tone. "If you intent to pursue this theory of yours, you will not unnecessarily bother the Earl. Find some solid ground to support your story before going to his mansion to accuse him of robbery. He is a very well respected man and a beneficiary of some of the most prominent social events in London. Scotland Yard shan't accuse him lightly."

Sebastian snorted, waved it away and looked at his board. "He pumps money into the yard and Grey doesn't want to lose his biggest cash cow. I get it and we will be as discrete as possible."

"Thank you," Claude said and with a short nod and a cordial smile, he turned and walked out. Sebastian got up from his desk, walked around it, opened a drawer and grabbed a new package of smokes.

"Shall we?" He said, picking up his coat and looking at his red-headed partner. Grell's eyes fixed on him, turned to the door and then averted back to the impatiently frowning inspector again.

"What are you looking at, Sutcliff?"

Grell skipped to the desk, bend over and leaned on his elbows. Supporting his chin on his knuckles, he grinned sly. "What was with that cordial smile?" Did something I am not supposed to _but dying_ to know happened?" The red-head fished. Sebastian's frown smoothened and he slowly raised an eyebrow at him, his tight lips curling into a most charming smile.

"Maybe," he replied and looked away for a second. "Would you like to know what," he continued in his honey-like voice, rolling his crimson eyes back to the young inspector. Grell wiggled in excitement and nodded vigorously.

"Oh Bassy, I knew you'd come to appreciate me as your partner, sharing secrets with me already. Please, do tell," he chirped and jolted up, his palms flat on the desk as he leaned in a little closer.

"Come even closer, and let me whisper it to you. It has to be our little secret. Can you do that?"

Grell's head rapidly bobbed up and down, agreeing not to speak. "Good," Sebastian smirked and raised his hand, making a seductive come hither gesture with his finger and effortlessly lurking the unaware red-head in. When his ear was so close Sebastian's lips touched it, he made the red-head shiver by softly blowing over his skin. "Are you ready?"

Grell couldn't produce coherent words and a mewling groan emitted from his lips. Sebastian leaned in even closer, licked his lips and parted them.

"We worked, you moronic twat!"

The red-head shrieked and jolted back when Sebastian roared in his ear. Covering the left side of his face, he slit his eyes and hissed vicious at the inspector.

"What in blazes was that for? You nearly rendered me deaf!"

"Be glad I didn't do any worse," Sebastian replied calmly as he put his coat on. "Call me that name one more time, and you'll see how I don't play nice," he continued in the same calm voice, only this time, the words were laced with a pending threat. Grell huffed, crossed his arms and turned his back on him.

"Then I am not going to share my findings."

Sebastian stopped smoothening out his collar and looked up. "Excuse me. Your findings."

"Yes," Grell snarled over his shoulder before snapping his head back around. "The reports on the residue they found near the door of the safe; the one that was blown up at the latest burglary. I took those home last night to study them properly."

"You're not supposed to take files home without my approval," Sebastian pointed out matter-of-factly. Grell ignored it and stuck his nose in the air.

"That is besides the point," Grell sighed while lazily studying his nails. "And it does not matter because I am not going to tell you anyway."

"Sutcliff," Sebastian threatened in a low growl. Grell stubbornly shook his head, closed his eyes and snapped up a finger. "Not until you apologize."

"An apology? Really? How does my foot up your posterior sound?"

"Strangely arousing."

"Sutcliff. Now!"

"Say please, Grell," the red-head mused teasingly. Sebastian gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in vexation.

"Sut-"

The red-head raised a hand, palm out to stop the inspector from speaking further. "Stop calling me by my last name in that tone. It is irksome. I will tell you already." He walked to his satchel, brought the documents back to the desk and opened them. "They found residue that has about the same traits as dynamite, but the impact of it is much more concentrated and safe. I have to examine it more closely but for now, I am positively sure it contained nitroglycerine, nitrocellulose and ketone. Also," Grell retrieved small package from the files and opened it. "Smell this."

Sebastian leaned in and sniffed the bag. The scent was sharp and made his eyes tear up and burned in his nostrils. Frowning, he stood back and looked Grell in the eye. "Is that onion? Why add onion?"

"Exactly," Grell agreed, putting the package down. "I have yet to conclude what the function of that part is, but, this bit of evidence supports your theory."

"How so? Onions you can buy on the market and you can get by chemicals with the right contacts and bribe the seller."

"That might be so, but whoever made this had the knowledge to take the normal chemicals used in dynamite and make it into a more controlled substance. This someone knows what kind of a reaction it would have and what the impact of said reaction would be. This person must have studied chemicals at some university."

Sebastian was dumbfounded for a moment. "Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely. With the kind of knowledge this person has, I am almost certain that he had studied with my mentor, William T. Spears, and he does not take charity cases."

"Most interesting," Sebastian mused. "Get your coat," he told Grell on his way to the door. The red-head gathered the files and did as told.

"Where are we going?"

"To the Viscount Druitt," Sebastian informed whilst opening the door and holding it for Grell. "The first aristocrat that has been robbed."

* * *

The streets were busy, especially now that Christmas was getting closer and people were busying themselves with decorating the street lanterns and facades. The Viscount's townhouse was already heavily decorated with trees, bows and candles. Sebastian grunted at it and stomped through the garden towards the porch, followed by a marveling Grell who kept pointing here and there, squealing and wiggling in excitement.

Arriving at the front door, Sebastian frowned at the lobster shaped door knocker, knocked regardless of his objections with the extravagant ornament and took a step back. Grell had finally landed as well and tangling his fingers in Sebastian's coat, he drew the inspector's attention.

"Mistletoe," he grinned cheekily and pointed upwards. "I am a very traditional man," he added and puckered his lips. Sebastian arched an eyebrow, scoffed and turned his eyes back to the front door.

"I am not," he said blatantly and was only more than glad when the door was opened, keeping Grell from whining on about it any further. Putting on his most charming smile, Sebastian politely inquired if the master of the house was available.

"I am afraid he's not. His lawyer is here presently to go over his financial losses," the butler informed in a dull tone. "May I ask whom is calling for him."

"Naturally," Sebastian reached inside his coat and retrieved his badge. "Inspector Michaelis of the yard. This is my partner, inspector Sutcliff. We are here to talk about the robbery."

"Who is it?" Came a sing-a-song voice from behind the butler and moments later, a young blonde beau pushed his way past the graying man and gave them a dazzling smile. "My, more of the yard? Oh dear me, and such handsome and sophisticated looking men too. Where are your manners, Hemmingway, let the gentlemen in."

Already annoyed by him, but managing to cleverly mask it with a handsome crooked smirk, Sebastian graciously accepted the invitation and stepped into the warmth of the hallway.

"Take their coats, and fetch them something to drink. A nice glass of hot mulled wine, gentlemen? Oh for goodness sake Hemmingway, off with you," the Viscount ordered and shook his head at the butler's back. "Honestly, I do not know where people get a good staff these days. They seem to become more lazy with every generation. Slacking off and disobeying. Please, follow me," he chirped, making a flamboyant hand gesture and waving a satin handkerchief while gliding into the living room. "Elizabeth dear, we are joined by a most becoming pair of inspectors from the yard."

A young blonde snapped her head up from the papers she was reading. Her green eyes were big and blinked surprised at the inspectors. She seemed to quickly compose herself, smiled charmingly and stood, smoothening out the ruffles of her skirt.

"Gentlemen," she breathed and blushed a deep shade of red when Sebastian took her hand in his and pressed a feather light kiss on the top, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Aside from a slacking staff, I can see you carefully pick your company, Viscount," he spoke in his honey-like voice. "Inspector Sebastian Michaelis, and this is my partner Grell Sutcliff. I believe this is the first time we had the pleasure of meeting."

"Indeed," Elizabeth answered. "I did not know they had put different inspectors on the robbery cases."

"They had to, my Lady. The Aberline brothers are fine enough inspectors but more suited for smaller cases. Ones that are not of such grave importance to the yard," Sebastian answered truthfully and with the way they had been hanging from his lips, he knew could easily gather all the information he needed.

"Please, sit down," the Viscount gestured to the luxurious divans and sofas "For I am afraid I might cave under the pressure of remembering my misfortune," he added and raised his handkerchief to his lips in a theatrical manner. Had he not known better, Sebastian would've rolled his eyes at it and glancing sideways, even Grell seemed to share the same opinion on the blonde aristocrats performance.

Once seated and each provided with a glass of wine, the Viscount turned to Sebastian. "Pray tell, good inspector. Of what can I be of service."

"We do hate to be bothering you with another weary inquiry, but we would like to know the events of the evening of the robbery," Sebastian spoke, playing the part of a concerned and polite inspector perfectly. The Viscount let go of a shaky breath and took a sip of wine before answering.

"I was at home, and I still find it a miracle I got off unharmed as I did. I was asleep, and when I awoke from slumber, there was a hooded figure. He stood bend over and instantly covered my mouth with a his hand. For a moment, I thought I was going to choke," and at this, he reached up and caressed his throat. "He had such a smooth voice for such a vulgar villain and such delicate hands and the smoothest of skins. Had I not known better, I would've mistaken him for one of my own. He demanded to know where the safe was, and oh," he clutched his chin with both hands. "There was this horrible blast, had I not already been shaking like a leaf, I would've noticed how the bed shook so."

Sebastian stopped scribbling on his notepad and looked up, frowning. "A blast?" He asked. The blonde Viscount nodded vigorously, his eyes glistening with dramatic tears.

"A most vicious one, the house must've shook on its foundation."

"Forgive me but, could my partner have a look at said safe?"

"Of course. You can take him, can't you Elizabeth?" The Viscount nudged the blonde lawyer next to him with his elbow. As if awakening from some sort of trance, she blinked, jolted up and nodded, the loose curly locks that framed her face bouncing up and down. "Naturally, if you would come with me, inspector Sutcliff."

The Viscount did not wait for them to exit the room to continue his story of woe. Sebastian pretended to write things down and uttered an understanding hum every now and then whilst giving the male a sympathetic smile. The Viscount hardly seemed to notice while he completely went up in making the most flamboyant gestures and drew melodramatic faces to support the story of the unfortunate event.

After ten dreadfully long minutes, the butler announced the return of Grell and Elizabeth. Sebastian looked up, his eyes finding Grell's instantly. The red-head gave him a short nod and it was all he needed to know.

"That was all, Viscount," Sebastian said, not caring he interrupted the Viscount's perception of the terror he had felt and how he bravely struggled for life. He closed his notepad, stood and smiled. "I am terribly sorry you had to relive that horrible night, and you have my deepest sympathy. I thank you for sharing your memories with us once again. I will personally see to it that you will get justice."

"I must take my leave too," Elizabeth spoke. "I have another client with whom I have to go over her financial los-" She stopped in the middle of her sentence, smiled and dipped her chin to her chest, trying to cover up a blush.

Interest piqued, Sebastian finally took a closer look at the blonde and squinted. "Another client of yours that was robbed? How terribly unfortunate. Allow us to escort you, my lady."

"That is quite alright. I can manage on my own perfectly, but thank you for the most kind offer, inspector Michaelis," Elizabeth peeped and rushed to the foyer to get away from the intense crimson eyes. Sebastian and Grell exchanged a look and followed her.

"I must insist, my lady," Sebastian said while helping her into her coat. "As officers of the law, we are dutifully obliged to protect the citizens of London. Who knows what kind of scoundrels are out there, skulking through the shadows and preying on innocent damsels like yourself."

"I am not a damsel in distress," Elizabeth retorted. "And I have managed own my own perfectly for twenty-two years now. I bid you a good day," she said and with a reserved goodbye, she walked out into the night. Grell had already fetched their coats and after thanking the Viscount once more, they followed her down the street.

* * *

Elizabeth made haste, her heels clacking wildly on the sidewalk while she rushed through the crowds. It felt like she was being followed but she did not have the heart to look over her shoulder, not sure if it would be the inspectors or one of those skulking ruffians Sebastian had warned her about. Each with a set of longer legs, Sebastian and Grell easily caught up with her and when the former put a hand on her shoulder, she screamed, turned and pushed a gun under his chin.

"Not a damsel in distress," Sebastian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Elizabeth exhaled a shaky breath, not even thinking about averting the barrel. "I suggest you lower the gun, Madame," Sebastian told her calmly and gently pushed it down.

"Why are you following me?" Elizabeth asked. "I think I was clear when I told you that I am not in need of an escort."

"It is our duty, and walking around armed with a gun, I can draw the simple conclusion that you do not feel safe out alone in the dark. Please, lady Elizabeth, allow us to be your escorts."

Hesitantly looking from one to the other, Elizabeth finally complied and handed Sebastian the gun when he asked for it. Silently, they walked down the busy sidewalk until they came to a halt at another grotesque townhouse. In the bay window stood an enormous Christmas tree, decorated with red ornaments solely and a garland with red roses hung from the front door.

"I must thank you, gentlemen," Elizabeth said with a polite smile. Sebastian returned it and shook his head while turning her towards the fence and putting a hand in the small of her back, pushing her forward.

"We are not yet there, my lady. Besides, if I am not mistaken, this client of yours was also brutally robbed. It is our duty to take a new statement as well."

"Well, you can't," Elizabeth snarled, twirling around on her heels so she looked him straight in the eye again. Sebastian quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Whatever for?"

"She has already been interrogated. I will not let you badger my client."

"That is very noble of you," Sebastian replied, taking a step closer so he loomed over her. "But need I remind you that this is a criminal investigation and by denying us access to your client, you are obstructing it."

Elizabeth squinted and scrutinized the male. "Is that a threat, inspector Michaelis?"

Sebastian chuckled low. "I know better than to threaten a lawyer," he replied. But looking into his crimson eyes, the pending danger was clearly evident and even scared her a little. "We are both on the same side here, master lawyer. All I require is a little more time of your client in order to solve the grave misfortune that befell her."

When staring him down did not seem to work, Elizabeth sighed and threw her gloved hands in the air, admitting defeat. "Fine," she sighed. "But make it quick. And I will be present at the interrogation." Sebastian smirked satisfied, the threat disappearing from his eyes only to be restored with amusement.

"I hadn't expected anything less," Sebastian said and stepped forward to open the gate. "After you," he said politely and gestured down the snow cleared path. Elizabeth sucked in a fresh breath of air and trampled to the front door.

"Nicely played, Sir," Grell whispered towards Sebastian in passing.

"All part of the job," Sebastian answered with a confident smile and closed the gate and followed the two down to the front door.

When the two inspectors halted behind her, Elizabeth turned her gaze to the door and hesitated for a moment before raising her hand and knocking. Different sets of voices were heard and the door was opened by a red haired woman.

"Elizabeth, darling," she said cheerfully and hugged the blonde close. "I see you brought company."

"Yes, I am terribly sorry Angelina but they insisted to come along. These gentlemen are inspectors with the yard and they had a couple of more questions about the robbery."

Red eyes averted to the pair and the lips curled into a mysterious smile. "No matter. I am sure the inspectors are only doing their job. Please, come in, it is dreadfully frosty out."

"Thank you, Madame," Sebastian said once they stood in the hallway. "Inspector Sebastian Michaelis," he showed her his badge. "This is my partner Grell Sutcliff, we had a couple of more questions about-" He fell silent when an unexpected person entered the hallway. Blue eyes met crimson ones and Ciel smirked handsomely at him.

"My. We seem to be running into each other frequently, inspector Michaelis," he spoke calmly. Sebastian cleared his throat before granting the young Earl a grin of his own.

"So it would seem, Earl Phantomhive. I think I owe you an apology, my lady, for I did not know you were entertaining."

"Oh dear heavens no, it is only me nephew. And he was just leaving," Angelina said, waving it away. "Please, take off your coat and come sit by the fire. I am more than willing to help you get the perpetrators and if my statement will help, I will gladly cooperate."

"Thank you," Sebastian answered and he and Grell handed their coats to the butler. His eyes soon rested on the young Earl again and out of the blue, the blonde that had escorted him last night had emerged behind him, holding a large bag in his hand.

"Onions," Grell mentioned matter-of-factly and exchanged a look with Sebastian.

"Yes," Alois snarled. "Onions. How very perceptive. You must be awfully good at your job," he continued in a irked tone of voice. "Is that what you're here for? Is it now a crime to carry around a bag of onions?"

"Hush, Alois," Ciel warned with a warm smile. "The inspectors are here to talk to Madame Red about the robbery-" Ciel stopped midsentence when Sebastian bluntly interrupted him.

"I must admit I find it awfully peculiar that you have to carry around your own groceries, Earl Phantomhive. Don't you have servants for that?" Ciel frowned a second before his face smoothened out again and become a façade of mystery once more.

"Are you accusing me of something, inspector?"

"Perhaps," Sebastian retorted. "Am I supposed to?" He added.

Ciel chortled. "How wickedly clever of you. I can see why the yard choose to replace the former inspectors. But no, this is a sad misfortune of my servants having to clean up the kitchen after one of Alois's experiments."

"Experiments," Sebastian repeated. "Pray tell. What kind of experiments?"

"Clever once more, inspector, my highest praise. Alas, we must take our leave for I hate to let my coachman wait for too long in such bitter weather. Besides, I assumed you were here to take my aunt's statement."

"That I was," Sebastian mused and his eyes followed Ciel's moves closely when he walked to Angelina, hugged her and pressed a kiss on her cheek with his sensual mouth. Sebastian bit his bottom lip to suppress a moan and quickly slapped a wicked grin on his lips when Ciel turned his blue eyes to him.

"Have a good evening, inspectors," he said in passing.

"Earl Phantomhive," Sebastian called, wheeling around on his heels. Ciel stopped in the doorway and looked him straight in the eye. Sebastian licked his lips before speaking up. "Expect me to come by your house one of these days. I think we should have a chat." Ciel smirked, and it was so gruesomely handsome that Sebastian felt movement in his pants.

"I am looking forward to it, inspector Sebastian Michaelis," Ciel said, speaking his name as if it was a most gorgeous hymn. It caused a pleasant shivers up and down Sebastian's spine and they only subsided after the door had closed on the young Earl and his companion.

"Do take a seat in the living. I shall go upstairs to fetch my husband," Madame Red told them. Sebastian snapped out of his thoughts, smiled at her and nodded.

"Thank you," he breathed and absentmindedly followed Grell and Elizabeth to the majestic living room. There was something about Ciel Phantomhive that unsettled him, only he was not yet sure in what kind of way.

That night, after he had dropped off Grell at his home and had declined his offer to come inside, he walked back to his own apartment. His hands were shaking in his pockets and he knew it was not because of the cold. He needed a fix of opium, and half way to his home, he had to step into an alley to throw up. Persistent not to give in, he walked home, got naked and gave his shaky hands the task of jerking himself off in the middle of the room while thinking about the Earl's teasingly sensual lips.

* * *

_Woot for intoxicated updates!_

Red's husband is still alive. I know, most of the time, she is left alone and pining for Vincent, but c'mon, the woman deserves some happiness. The Viscount, last time I mentioned him he was an ass, now I wanted him classically dense and melodramatic, it suits him so well and I hope I managed to capture it.

**Review**, my sweet bizarre dolls, if only for Sebastian jerking off to those sensual lips we all know and love.


	8. File 08

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

Dry crackers and wine... I have been working on this chapter all day, with the occasional break, and I end it drinking Riesling and eating dry crackers. Ok, let me just ease your worries; this chapter is anything but dry.

I know many (and with many, I mean _everybody_) have been waiting for this. The inevitable collision between Earl Phantomhive and inspector Michaelis. It might not go as you all had dreamed and it is anything but romantic. It is sex, animalistic and angry. So before continuing, let go of all hope that Sebastian lays Ciel down by the fire and promises to never betray him to the Yard, because I don't go that way. If you came for that, I suggest you'd try another writer or my story _Perfect Day_, in which fluff is a necessary evil.

That was it, merry reading and see you at the end.

O.

* * *

Wheels skidded over the slippery cobblestones to the tail end of a shoddy and dark alley in the dodgier part of London. Inside the luxurious coach, a blonde male was raving venomously, accusing the uninterested looking slate haired male opposite of him of all kinds of betrayal.

"He knows, Ciel. The rozzer knows which actually does not come as a surprise. It is as if you are handing him clues on a sodding silver platter," Alois fumed outraged. "The simpleton mentioned onions. Onions!" He cried and shook the bag that was filled with a vast amount of the vegetables. "How could they have known?"

Ciel stared out the window and lazily drummed his gloved fingers on the wooden window frame. Since they had left his aunt, Alois had done nothing but express his disdain with Ciel's flirtatious behavior towards the detective and his decreasing moral values concerning their mission.

"All will go to sodding hell because you're trolling after that guy like a lovesick puppy and thinking with your penis," Alois snapped and raised an accusing digit to Ciel's pants. "Your behavior is undermining-"

"I am not undermining the operation, Alois," Ciel groaned wearily and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Everything is perfectly fine. I've got it all under control so would you please stop with ranting gibberish and accusing me? You're worrying yourself too much."

"Or maybe you're not worrying yourself enough," Alois shot back before crossing his arms and reclining back against the pillows. Ciel faked a pout before smirking deviously.

"Come on Alois, you're acting like a child."

"I am not," the blonde huffed.

"You are. I mean, look at that pout," Ciel leaned forward, cusped the other male's cheeks and squeezed. "You look like a five year old who's candy got stolen or thinks he's getting wronged when his parents deny him a new toy."

"Shut it," Alois said and slapped Ciel's hand away. "At least I am not acting like a wooed and blushing damsel. You are practically drooling over the man. It is pathetic and pretty pointless. Once he finds out we're the suspects he's looking for, batting your lashes at him will not safe your aristocratic posterior from jail."

Ciel gazed blank at him for a moment while the carriage come to a stop. "Then let us make sure he does not catch us," he chimed with a charming smirk before opening the door and stepping into the bitter cold.

"When you keep acting like that, he will find out soon enough," Alois punned irked and followed him, stepping down the steps and gazing around the rancid alley. "What is it we are doing here exactly?" He asked while giving the colossal male that opened up the door to a tiny and dark looking bar a suspicious look up and down. "We're in carnival territory, aren't we?"

"Business," Ciel answered frank and complete ignoring his friend's insulting pun while striding towards the door. Alois gave the bald male another look up and down. He growled low, which made the blonde arch an uninterested eyebrow.

"It is so scary I almost wet myself," he mocked while walking in, shaking his head and muttering words under his breath.

The interior of the bar was just bleak as the outside; dark corners and shady looking figures, hunched over pints of beer while their eyes subtly followed ever move of the pair of gentleman that stuck out like a sore thumb between the beastly looking regulars. Ciel chose to ignore it while venturing further into the hellhole. Alois was completely indifferent to it, unmoved by his gruesome surroundings and only wishing Ciel would hurry his _business_ up.

"Good evening gentleman."

Alois ran into Ciel's back when he came to an abrupt stop at some corner table next to the bar. He poked his head over his friend's shoulder, crinkled his nose and sighed annoyed. "I should've known barbarians like you would keep up in vulgar shops like this," he spoke and stepped out from behind Ciel's back.

"Charming as ever, Alois," Joker said and raised a soothing hand to the dangerously grumbling bulky and bald male next to him. "Easy there Jumbo, he might be a pompous snob, but he is irreplaceable."

"That is correct," Alois retorted while reclining back against the seat and crossing his arms. "I am not replaceable in this operation," he boosted, prodding his own chest. "As for you; we can find filthy gypsy vermin on every damned corner of the streets of London," he said and tilted his head back at the snorting Jumbo. Joker spoke some more words in a harsh and foreign language before rolling his amethyst eyes to the blonde, his smile, if less cordial than before, was still intact as he spoke again.

"In his genius, the good doctor has yet to master the common decency and etiquette that should go with his title." Alois's face was an emotionless mask while he stared at the ginger-head that smiled with feigned politeness.

"Not really. I am very aware of the accurate rules and etiquette that belongs with my social status, I just know when these are pointless to apply. My vocabulary might shock and humiliate you; which begs the question," he turned his body to Ciel. "Why aren't we looking for carnival people that are but a little more civilized and more suitable for the operation."

"How many times do I have to repeat myself, Alois? They _are_ perfectly capable to help us with the operation; all have proven that on more than one occasion. Besides, we have a history together-"

"I know. Do not even get me started on that. How could I forget the sad little story of their orphan woe and how your father rescued them from slavery. The tiniest violin in the world weeps for them, truly. But even so, that does not automatically make them most capable. There are other poor Romanian orphans out there who'd gladly come to our aid."

"My father trained them personally," Ciel exclaimed. "How could they _not _be capable?! Are you questioning Vincent's credibility, mmh?"

"No," Alois admitted crabbily. "But they don't listen to me," he defended his position in a most childish manner. Ciel raised an eyebrow at him and shaking his head, he pointed out the obvious.

"Perhaps they _would _if you stopped treating them so poorly. Calling them names and questioning their adequacy. They are as human as we are and they have feelings too, although it's questionable if you have any realization of morals and empathy."

"Oh now don't you start with me on morals. It's because of you and your disgustingly flirta- ouch! What was that?" Alois bend over and rubbed his sore shin. Ciel's eyes had turned cold and harsh when he accosted him again.

"That is enough out of you, Alois. Here," he retrieved a satchel from his coat and tossed it in the blonde's lap. "Go get another round of whatever commoners ale they have on tap tonight and a glass of wine."

"And gin," Jumbo hissed low, black eyes narrowing in on the fragile blonde that slowly rose to his feet. Alois sniffed smugly, muttered some more insults and only left when Ciel raised his voice at him and ordered him to go and get their drinks.

* * *

"What was that about, Sir?" Joker asked as soon as Alois was out of hearing radius. Ciel waved it away with a simply hand gesture and an uninterested look.

"It was nothing. Alois has concocted some absurd theory surrounding me and the new leading inspector. Best ignore his wild accusations and let us not put another minute to waste trying to dissect his frivolous fabrications."

"He will be easily disregarded," Joker grinned. "So, what of this Friday? I have arranged for the others to meet us here after they prepared for tonight's show. They should be here any moment."

"Yes. About Friday," Ciel swallowed, staring thoughtful as he took off his leather gloves. "I think we have to readjust our target."

Joker's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Readjust our target? How come?"

"I am afraid there are some technicality problems with the new inspector that is leading the Yard's investigation. He is a lot smarter than we gave him credit for, and works a lot faster than anticipated as well."

"Mhmm," Joker hummed and nodded slowly. "He does seem a lot more capable than those dimwits they had leading the investigation before. They were running after their own tail like lost puppies."

"Indeed he does," Ciel confirmed and involuntarily licked his plump lips when he thought about all things that were capable about the older male. "That is why I believe we should be more careful from now on since our mission is long from completed," he continued thoughtful. "We cannot fall in the hands of inspector Michaelis before we are finished," he concluded and swallowed, his throat instantly dry at the mere thought of it. "What is keeping that oaf," he cursed and turned around to the bar. Alois was leaning on it, explaining something to the tender who's expression grew more dim with every word the blonde spoke. Groaning, the Earl got up to rescue Alois's dimwitted posterior before he was whacked over the head with a pint glass.

"And that smell of rot that hangs on your every breath is indubitably related to the far advanced decay of your teeth. It is unattractive and I am sure it is not beneficiary to your clientele, although," Alois peeked over his shoulder and wrinkled his nose at the filthy stench of sweat mingled with blood and dirt that hung in the air. "Your regulars probably aren't that observant nor very critical," he shrugged and turned to the bar again. "If you keep up this diet of disgustingly greasy food and alcohol and disregard to take care of your teeth, they will soon start falling out of your mouth like leafs from trees during autumn. You're welcome," he concluded with a tiny smile.

As expected, the tender raised a heavy beer jug in the air and intended to whack Alois over the head, inevitably starting a bar fight that has already been pending since they walked in. Leaping forward, Ciel's hand grabbed the tender's wrist before the jug could collide with the unaware blonde's head.

"Whatever he said, I deeply apologize," Ciel said while shooting the blonde a nasty glare. "Half of the time he is not aware of his surroundings nor the words he utters so blatantly. His mother was a mean drunk and he repeatedly fell on his head as a child, tragic really," he continued, subtly urging the tender not to overreact by unconsciously cultivating sympathy. However, Alois did not pick up on his intentions.

"I beg your pardon. My mother was not a drunk. She might've been a woman of loose morals, boning men behind my father's back, but she not once dropped me on my head. If for anything, she nurtured my genius and for the record, everything that comes out of my mouth is-"

Ciel had slapped a hand over his mouth, gave the tender his most charismatic smile and ordered their drinks. "Will you put a lid on it," he hissed at the blonde. Alois, who had fruitlessly been scratching at the appendage that covered his lips, frowned annoyed and snorted against Ciel's skin. "Promise me," Ciel told him firm. Defeated, Alois nodded and he sucked fresh air in his lungs when the gloved hand dropped away.

"I was only paying the man a service," he muttered offended. Ciel snatched his satchel away from the blonde and opened it to retrieve a fine amount of money that might ease the stirring anger further.

"I'm sure," Ciel admitted compassionate. "But you must realize that most commoners do not appreciate it when you openly insult their way of living," and Ciel leaned in a little further and lowered his voice to finish his sentence. "And I urge you not to offend them on their own territory."

"Oh yes, like that is not offensive," Alois snarled. "How come you can always speak your mind and I have to be silenced. England is a democracy, not an autocratic government ruled by you," he trailed off, averting the attention from his person to Ciel. The Earl rolled his eyes at it, told him to stop acting like a spoiled brat and paid the tender generously. "Take that gin with you, will you?"

* * *

Offended, Alois kept from following Ciel back to the table and just commenced in staring daggers at the threesome. That was until the smell of rot became unbearable and he pressured the tender to brush his teeth every now and then and rushed to the table to once again avoid a collision between his head and a jug.

"But if this plan falls through, I assume you already have a new one in the making?" Joker asked before he jugged back a vast gulp and wiped the foam of his upper lip with his sleeve. Ciel nodded slow, turning the inferior quality wine in its glass to let it breath a little.

"Since we are now an enormous blip on inspector Michaelis's radar, we should keep a low profile and set our sights on another target this Friday."

"Set our sights on another target? How is that keeping a low profile and working under the radar?" Joker asked. Jumbo emitted a gruff groan, joining Joker in his surprise. Ciel took a sip of his wine. The taste was such a foul and cringingly one that it could've made him gag. However, with effort, he swallowed it and shoved the glass Jumbo's way. The man seemed to have less standards regarding taste and jugged the miasma down in one gulp.

"We will still use the world exposition in the Olympia hall as our cover, but with the Yard keeping tabs on all the banks, I want your men to go and break into my house."

Alois choked and spat out his sip of beer, spraying Joker and Jumbo with it. "You what?" He exclaimed outraged. "Have you gone completely bonkers?"

"Certainly not and thinking about it, I should've noticed this before. The previous inspectors were too dense to see a connection but Michaelis isn't. You heard him, finding it odd that I am one of the few nobles who's home did not get burglarized. In order to avert the attention away from us, this must be done."

"But-"

"It is not up for discussion, Alois."

"They will go through my belongings with their filthy hands. They will mess with my work, my chemicals. Have you even fathomed the catastrophic consequences if they knocked over certain tubes. The mansion could explode."

"That is a risk I am willing to take," Ciel answered blatantly. "But perhaps it would be best to lock away the truly dangerous chemicals in the basement. I want to rooms torn apart, not the entire mansion."

"You just want Michaelis in your house so that you can have a private tête-à-tête with him," Alois grumbled while crossing his arms and slumping in his chair. The idea of other people going through his experiments made his stomach turn.

"You what?" Joker exclaimed, his amethyst eyes going from Ciel to Alois and back. "What of inspector Michaelis and the Earl?"

"Nothing," Ciel answered short. "He is talking gibberish."

"Am not," Alois jumped in. "Had it not been for his scandalously flirtations, the inspector would not be on our tail as he is now. He is dropping hints in order to dance some disgusting mating dance with Michaelis and it is appalling. Your penis is the cause of this jeopardy and _them _going through _my personal belongings_," the blonde fumed. The rest of the table was rendered completely silent; Ciel glaring daggers at the moping blonde next to him and the other two males gaping dumbstruck at the Earl.

"I know not, nor can I even begin to fathom what caused these wild fantasies of yours, but it is all hogwash," Ciel spoke, his voice more arctic than he had ever heard himself. "I would very much appreciate it if you stopped accusing me of such ludicrous ideas."

"Oh please," Alois rolled his eyes. "Every time you two _drool_ over each other, I am always amazed neither of you made a move to undress the other, throw him down and shag him rotten. The sexual tension is _so _tangible it even made the plants uncomfortable."

Joker bit his bottom lip and tried not to snigger. Jumbo didn't meet his standards of subtly and slammed his vast hand on the table and leaned back, his head rolled in his neck while he roared with laughter. Alois stared blank at the two and could only be irked that they laughed at the horrible position he always found himself in whenever inspector Michaelis was around. Ciel's face was a stoic mask but inside, his wounded pride tugged at the strings of his heart. Refusing to be comical relief any longer, he got to his feet and adjusted his coat.

"As disturbingly interesting as that might be, I do not wish to stay here any longer and be subjected to a running mockery. More so, I have a very important meeting in the morrow and must get some shut eye."

"Come on, Sir," Joker elbowed the still laughing Jumbo in the side in order to try and silence him. It had the reversed effect and tumbling back with his chair, the grotesque male now rolled over the floor, kicking his boots in the air and gasping for breath between laughter. "He doesn't mean it like that. He's drunk," Joker tried to rectify the situation. Ciel rose his nose in the air and looked past it, down on the two circus artists.

"No matter. I shall send a letter to inform you about the course of action you must take regarding Friday. Here," he went through his satchel, retrieved an undefined amount of coins and placed them on the table. "I'll pay for your expenses tonight. Have a lovely evening."

"Sir!" Joker called after him, kicking Jumbo and hissing he should stop laughing. "Sir, I am terribly sorry." Ciel chose to ignore it and strode to the door with vast steps. Alois followed him in silence, still vexed by the light way his situation was treated. At the door, Ciel nearly ran into a group of hooded figures that pushed their way in to get out of the pouring rain. Before he could snap at them about manners, the leader took the hood off and smiled.

"Earl," the woman said cheerful. "Are you already leaving?"

"Unfortunately yes, Beast. I have pressing matters I have to attend to in the morrow so I can't linger around for too long. Joker is in the back and he has his instructions. I am sure he can inform you accordingly."

"Pressing matters of what you're going to wear when Michaelis shows up at your house," Alois muttered behind his back. The intention that Ciel wouldn't overhear him failed and as punishment, the Earl leaned into the woman and whispered in her ear.

"Of course!" She exclaimed with a nod that made her tiny black curls bounce. "Have a pleasant evening, Earl," she added and pecked him quickly on the cheek.

"You too," Ciel replied and shot a look over his shoulder. Alois knew that sly smirk of his friend all too well but before he could make a spurt for the door, Beast and another one of the circus artists grabbed his arms and dragged him back into the dreadful bar, chatting merrily. Ciel nodded satisfied, wheeled on his heels and stepped out. With the temperature some degrees above thirty-two, the constant snow had turned into a cold downpour. He now regretted telling his coachman to come back in two hours. Putting his collar up, he strode on, the ticking of his cane echoing through the deserted alley.

* * *

Sebastian had tried for hours already to fall asleep. He tossed and turned, kicking the blankets away when he was too hot and pulling them back up when he was shivering from the cold. He was sweating, and his skin itched, causing him to scratch it incessantly. He was well aware that it were side effects from his withdrawal but he had stubbornly refused to give into it. But as he was scratching his chest, tearing the skin open and feeling the sticky and warm blood against his fingertips, he could no longer resist.

He got up, his legs wobbly while he stammered to the bathroom. In all his years that he had woken up hung over or even still slightly intoxicated, he had never looked as bad as he did right now. The reflection that stared back at him was only a ghost of the naturally handsome man he was. Skin ghastly pale, eyes bloodshed and lips cracked and almost translucent.

"Looking spiffy," he mocked and turned both faucets open to splash some water in his face. To his best effort, he tried to patch himself up to at least a half decent man. He changed back into his grey suit in the other room, doing half a job at buttoning his shirt and vest. His shoes tied, he yanked his coat off the kitchenette and stumbled out.

The streets were deserted, which he could only blame on the steady downpour that had already soaked him before he came to the end of the garden path. He put his collar up and stuffed his hands in his pockets while striding down the sidewalk. He fingered the satchel in his one pocket and his keys in the other. He had to remember to give those to one of the employees at the den before he would clumsily lose somewhere on the floor so he was forced to crawl around like an idiot, looking for them like he had done in Paris one time.

Lost in past experiences with the addictive drugs, he didn't hear the coach that slowed down. However, the charismatic voice that addressed him made Sebastian stop and wheel around on his heels.

"Good evening, inspector Michaelis."

Sebastian blinked the raindrops out of his eyes and tried to smirk nonchalant at the nobleman. "We seem to run into each other a lot these days, Earl Phantomhive."

Ciel tipped his head back and smirked smugly. "Indeed. Would you care for a ride? Not the normal luxury of my own coach but it is decent and dry. You might catch a terrible cold if you stay out in this weather for too long."

As tempting as it sounded, Sebastian could hardly ask the Earl to bring him to the Chelsea dock and expose him to his worst weakness. Blackmail was not the kind of leverage he wanted to hand the Earl on a silver platter, even if that meant he had to refuse the offer to sit in a carriage with him, alone.

"I must neatly decline your offer Earl Phantomhive, but thank you for the kind attention."

Ciel squinted at him, his eyes filled with suspicion. "Off to a secret rendez-vous, inspector? I am a very discrete man and you have my word that your destination will remain between the two of us."

Sebastian bit his bottom lip, the urge to get into the carriage becoming stronger with every passing minute. But, with his skin burning and his body craving, he had to give into his other needs and shook his head once more. "I cannot. It is official business."

"So it is," Ciel hummed. "Well. I bid you a good night then, inspector Michaelis."

"Good night," Sebastian whispered as he watched the coach rattle on. For a moment, he regretted his decision and considered running after it. When the realization of how pathetic and desperate that might look sank ik, he resisted it and walked on.

Soaked to the bone, his teeth chattering and his hair matted to his forehead, Sebastian arrived at the dock. He knocked, was let in and followed a new Asian girl down to the basement. Lau greeted him heartily, ordered his girls to fetch Sebastian a towel and insisted his honored guest to a place near to the fire.

"It has been some time, inspector. I am glad you have not forgotten about us."

"Work is busy, Lau," Sebastian retorted shortly and handed his drenched coat to Ran-Mao. "Trust me when I say you haven't been out of my thoughts for a second."

"Glad," Lau chimed and clapped his hands. "Get Mister Michaelis a warm wine and the usual. Enjoy your stay," he said before he slithered away to suck up to a set of new customers.

Anxiously, Sebastian watched as a girl's tiny fingers prepared his pipe with professional accuracy. Half way, he wanted to scream at her to hurry it up but the last bit of common sense held him back. Also, a pipe that was not prepared to perfection wasn't even worth the smoke.

"Here, Mister Michaelis-sama," she handed him the pipe with a smile. Sebastian could barely muster a smile as a thank you, put the nozzle to his lips and inhaled deep. The smoke spread through his lungs like a healing medicine and gradually started to cure him from all the side effects he suffered from. Soon, he lay back and enjoyed the numbing effect the drug had on him. Closing his eyes, he visualized the plump lips of Ciel that had talked to him before and it soothed all his worries and gave him the freedom to let his mind wander to what might've happened had he gotten into the carriage.

* * *

Ciel had told the coachman to follow the inspector. He had been terribly curious what kind of official business Sebastian had to attend to at this hour of night, or so he told himself. When they ended up at the Chelsea dock and he saw the man step inside an infamous opium den, he had been even more satisfied with his hunch to follow him. In the shadows of a vast cargo ship, he waited. He did not know why, or even what he would do once he would see the man stumble outside, but he just waited. Hours passed and it was close to midnight when the door opened and a vague looking Sebastian tumbled out.

"Wait here," he told the coachman and followed the staggering man at a short distance. Sebastian's steps were hesitant, and he had to support himself against a fence every now and then. He didn't even seem to notice he was being followed and not even the ticking of Ciel's cane that echoed through the deserted street alarmed him.

"Inspector," he finally called, deciding he had wandered off far enough. Sebastian spun on his heels, and wobbled, nearly tumbling into a bush. Inhaling, he composed himself and squinted at the Earl.

"Earl Phantomhive? What in blazes are you doing here? Are you lost? You must've had one hell of a lousy coachman if he couldn't find the snobbish part of London."

Ciel grinned amused and slowly shook his head. "Not at all. I was merely going for a nice walk." Sebastian quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"In the pouring rain? Please. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Ciel shot back cleverly. Sebastian straightened his back and shoulders, trying to look not as high as he was right now.

"Official business. I believe I already told you that when we met earlier this evening."

"Yes, I seem to recall something like that," Ciel replied, tapping his finger to his chin while he walked closer to the unsteady inspector. "What sort of official business did you have at Chelsea dock?"

Sebastian's face was motionless and he vaguely stared down on the younger male. "So you followed me from what I gather. If you want to intimidate me, save yourself the trouble. My supervisors are already aware of how I like to spend my time off. Besides," he took a step forward and loomed over the Earl. "You don't scare me. I suggest you go and pick someone your own size to blackmail."

Ciel chuckled. "Do you suggest that you're bigger than me?" He clacked his tongue and let his eyes roam over the lean figure. "I suggest we go and get affirmation on that statement."

Sebastian snorted. "As if it is not obvious already- what are you doing?" Sebastian grew suspicious when the Earl dragged him into a dark alley but could not find the willpower to resist. He groaned gruff when the male pushed his back against a wall and pinned him there by pressing his leg between Sebastian's and rubbing his knee against the inspector's groin.

"What in blazes are you doing?" Sebastian hissed venomously. "Unhand me this instant." Ciel tilted his head back and smirked animated.

"You cannot deny the mutual attraction, inspector Michaelis. I felt it, and I know you felt it too. I saw the twitching in your pants earlier and I cannot deny that I have been wondering what kind of a size could cause such an visible stir."

"Get your sodding paws off me before I-"

"Before you what? You call the police?" Ciel chuckled low and felt Sebastian's body shiver when he dragged his tongue down the tendons of the other male's neck. "Need I remind you that you yourself _are_ the police."

"You nasty little- ah, damn," Sebastian closed his eyes and sucked air through his teeth when Ciel did not hesitate to unbutton his pants and shove his hand inside. The wet and cold leather of the glove felt amazing against the warm flesh of his dick and he groaned when the hand slowly rotated up and down.

"You're right," Sebastian shivered when he felt Ciel's lips against his ear, whispering. "You might just be bigger than me. Care to find out?" He breathed sensually and licked the funnel of Sebastian's ear.

"Shut up, you blasted demon," Sebastian snarled. "Get your hand off me before I break it."

Ciel chuckled animated and leaned back, looking up at the blush of humiliation that was splattered across the inspector's cheeks. "If that is so, you're putting up zero resistance, especially here," Ciel teased and squeezed Sebastian's sack. The older male groaned hard and involuntarily bucked his hips.

"Im trying," Sebastian managed to say through gritting teeth. And, he was, in fact, trying, but due to the opium and several glasses of wine he had before, his mind no longer cooperated and his body was more than willing to give in. He clenched his fists and tried to get control over himself, but even if he had gotten any, it slipped the instant Ciel unbuttoned his own pants, took one of Sebastian's fists and shoved them into the clothing.

"_Fuck_," the inspector exclaimed and opened his fist, only to curl his fingers around the engorged dick of the Earl. He jerked, his moves more erratic than Ciel's but effective nonetheless. The Earl leaned in, putting his lips against Sebastian's.

"Where is that infamous resistance you were speaking off," he whispered mockingly and when Sebastian opened his mouth to snap back, Ciel slipped his tongue between the parted lips, silencing Sebastian entirely by caressing his tongue against his.

The kiss was slow, and it made Sebastian's blurred mind even more fuzzy. He had fantasized about how these plump lips would feel, and even if the reality was better, he hated the situation he was in. The lack of control he had now that the Earl had his hand curled around his dick.

Ciel broke away, briefly sinking his teeth in Sebastian's bottom lip and tugging at it before leaning back. His eyes sparkled with what seemed diabolic delight and stared directly into Sebastian's. He couldn't say a word, because his mind wouldn't come up with anything witty or conclusive aside from the plea to leave him alone. So Sebastian just watched. He felt the hand leave his dick. His own hand lost contact with Ciel's when the Earl sank down to his knees and easily pulled the inspector's pants down to his ankles.

"Stop," Sebastian muttered.

"You're not convincing anyone with that," Ciel replied sarcastically and made Sebastian moan loud when he leaned in and closed his lips around the tip of Sebastian's dick. Precum trickled down his tongue as he sucked more of the shaft into his mouth, his eyes gazing up at the pleasure and guilt wrenched expression on Sebastian's face. Increasingly bobbing up and down, he caused all kinds of sounds and words to spill from the inspectors lips and not before long, long digits tangled into his slate hair and grabbed a hold of it at the base of his neck. Ciel let the cock go with a sloppy pop and stood. "Turn around," he commanded.

Sebastian, breathless of the sensation of Ciel's warm mouth, opened an eye and slowly shook his head. "Fuck you," he gasped and reached down to wrap his hand around his own dick. Ciel took a step back and watched, smirking amused while the inspector jerked himself off.

"I said turn around," he repeated himself after he concluded that it had gone on long enough. When Sebastian still refused and made no attempts, Ciel forcefully grabbed his arm and easily turned him, pushing Sebastian's cheek against the cold wall.

"Let us see," Ciel kneeled again and watched as rain trickled down the pale skin of Sebastian's smooth and firm ass. Reaching up, he slapped it, and again, making the inspector twitch.

"What in blazes are you doing, idiot? Get your sodding hands away from me before-"

"Before you break them, I know," Ciel finished his sentence. "Your resistance is remarkably non-existent," he said in a mocking manner and spread the ass, sucking air through his teeth when he saw the untarnished hole. "Are you still a virgin, inspector Michaelis?"

"None of your fucking- ahh… _fuck_," Sebastian gritted his teeth, his fingertips scraping against the wall when he felt Ciel's tongue lap at the muscle. The tongue prodded against it, teasing and provoking him tremendously. The suckling and sloppy noises turned Sebastian on and he grinded his ass into the tongue, his body involuntarily begging for more.

"Have I told you that you could grind?" Ciel asked briskly and took a hold of the hips with both hands. "Bend over," he commanded. Unknowing of what would or could happen, or maybe too high to think about it, Sebastian bend over, just a little. A hard smack was delivered to his ass, and another. It aroused him immensely and made his body curve, bending into the warm tongue.

"Good," Ciel mused and got to his feet. Sebastian looked over his shoulder and when he saw the Earl positioning his dick, he panicked.

"Get the hell away from me, fucking idiot," he snarled, and desperately tried to move into any direction. Unfortunately, Ciel had the upper hand as he could think straight and use his strength to overpower the disorientated inspector.

"Not a change in hell," he muttered and roughly pushed, forcing his dick inside Sebastian's ass. Sebastian cried out and it felt as if the cock had torn the sensitive muscle apart. Without warning, Ciel moved, sliding in and out of the ass and rapidly increasing his tempo. Sebastian groaned, his nails scraping over the harsh stone and his body trying to adjust to the intrusion. His ass burned, and with every thrust, it seemed to become more fierce.

"Relax your muscles," Ciel hissed through clenched teeth and smacked the ass again, harsh, the sound of flesh colliding with flesh turning both on. "Let my dick in entirely."

"Pull it out," Sebastian shot back, dipping his chin to his chest and gritting his teeth. Ciel did not listen to him and kept smacking his ass and dug his fingertips into Sebastian's hips. When the burning sensation gradually started to subside, Sebastian felt his unwilling body relax. His tense muscles eased and the dick that slammed inside him hit a spot that made him growl and curse hard, begging to go deeper.

"Good," Ciel grumbled and increased tempo, now pounding his entire length into the warm ass and feeling the tip of his dick hit a smooth spot. Sebastian responded wildly whenever he hit it and this encouraged the Earl to go deeper and harder.

"Harder," Sebastian hissed, looking over his shoulder. Like his, Ciel's hair was matted to his forehead and rain poured down on him in a constant shower, soaking him through and through. He saw the male pound into him and felt the dick hit that spot inside him, causing an incredible vibration through his entire body. When it soared through his legs, Sebastian reached down and jerked himself off, looking Ciel in the eye still.

"I'm going to- ah, damn…," Ciel gave a last thrust and came, unloading his warm cum deep inside Sebastian while he slowed down his pumping and milked his cock inside the inspector. Feeling the cock twitch and pump inside him, Sebastian gave himself a couple of more jerks and came to, groaning loud while planting his seed in the puddle of mud they had been standing in.

Both gasping, Ciel leaned in, placing his hands over Sebastian's against the wall. His lips against the inspector's ear, he whispered. "We should meet like this more often, inspector Sebastian Michaelis."

* * *

...

How many of you hate me at this point? Alright, I have this great fantasy where Ciel is truly like Vincent and he is a sadist to happen. I like him mature, and in charge, disregarding his normal damsel mantle and stand up for himself and fuck Sebastian in the ass. He deserves it after all the times his Shota hiney was molestated. (He is no Shota here, 19, remember?)

If it makes you feel better, Sebastian will not become the designated bottom... there, hope that made your okatu warrior cries die down.

Please review, I seriously need a boost with this story because in person, this is my favorite thing ever, in reality, nobody buys it, which sucks, horribly. So, make my day and sex me up with a ladywood and long review.

Thank you for reading.


	9. File 09

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

Has it been too long? It has- Am I mortally ashamed? I guess so..

Ok dear readers, if you are still out there (which I doubt) I came here to make some confession. I was about to come up with an invalid excuse why I haven't been updating lately, but I think it is about time to tell the truth.

I have had zero inspiration the past weeks. And I can go and blame that on the pain I am suffering in my entire body, all day, every day. Or I can tell you it is because of emotional reasons because I am very worried about my girlfriend who is been having some personal issues, but.. I might be lying. Ok, all those things are a minor factor but I think the biggest reason is that I just had no inspiration to write anything.

I tried. I tried to force myself to write, but it did not work. So, I have been neglecting my stories and done a little too much drinking for my own good, convincing myself it would come back with the right amount of inspiration -read; jugging back galleons of wine. I can tell you that it did not. Because let's face it, I think nobody can write properly after throwing back 6 glasses of wine in 2 hours.

So, I have done what I thought I could not do. I have been avoiding wine and drinking water. Watching Scrubs and Awkward. And, after too much hours gapping at TLC, I decided to give it another go. It is not like it is flowing from my fingertips as it used to, but I am getting back there.

I can apologize, and perhaps I should, but how can I apologize for something I cannot help or force? So, in all honesty, I hope you're still out there, waiting eagerly for me to update some of my stories. And if you are, stay close by, because I will be working hard to update at least one story every week and all stories once every two weeks. It is a goal I am working towards, not a definite promise.

Enough said, enjoy!

O.

* * *

The door slamming drew Alois's mind attention away from his chemical reactions. He called out with a flat hello and when no one responded properly, he turned his eyes back to his experiments. Footsteps behind him made the blonde turn on his heels and frowned and the unkempt clothes of the young Earl.

"What happened to you?" He asked with disinterest laced through his voice and lazily raised eyebrows. Ciel scraped the toe off his boot over the floor and pushed his hair; normally neatly organized but now a wet disarray, out of his flustered face. When he finally looked up he frowned thoughtful.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied and nodded to the blonde's swollen, red left eye and the nail scratch that ran over his right cheek. Alois shrugged at it, muttered some unintelligible words whilst turning back to his tubes and beakers.

"You did what?" Ciel inquired whilst he walked towards his friend. Halting next to him, Alois refused to look him in the eye and put his focus to extract sulfenic acids from onions and put the concentrated compound in a beaker.

"I got into a barbaric bar fight," Alois repeated himself and handed Ciel a pair of goggles. "You best put these on if you insist on standing this close to my experiment."

"You got into a bar fight?" Ciel chortled shortly. "And you're still in one piece. Who did you get into a fight with? A woman?" He mocked with a mischievous grin. Alois squeezed the beaker he was holding, put it down with a loud thud and turned to his friend, failing his arms wildly while screaming at him.

"She was a very large woman with claws I tell you; claws! Look at this," he pointed to the reddened stripes that ran diagonally across his cheek. "That _woman_, or whatever it was, nearly scratched out my eye."

Ciel cleared his throat, hardly taking any trouble to mask his amusement. "And pray tell. How did you escape the claws of this conniving harpy?" He asked in a mocking tone. Alois crossed his arms and muttered vexed.

"The ginger gypsy vermin helped me," he replied and rolled his eyes. "But if he hadn't intervened, I would've fought _it_ off myself."

"Sure you would've," Ciel mused in a sardonic manner that ticked the blonde off.

"By the way, even while you cleverly changed the subject and averted the attention away from your disheveled vagabond look. What happened to you tonight? You left me alone in that dump nearly five hours ago. Where have you been?"

"Around," Ciel explained himself plainly. "Will this concoction effect my furniture or floors?"

"You went to see _him_, didn't you?" Alois said, ignoring his friends question entirely and scrutinizing the Earl's facial expression closely. Ciel's stoic mask remained intact while he slowly raised an eyebrow at the blonde.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know perfectly well of whom I speak," Alois shot back. "You went to see that inspector, and by the looks of it," the icy eyes scanned the Earl up and down. "You did a whole lot more than just that."

Ciel placed his chin on his chest and examining the disarray of mud stains and creases his neat suit had turned into, the was hardly any denying that the blonde's assumption was the correct one. Recollecting himself, he held his head up high, threw down the goggles and looked Alois straight in the eye.

"What you see here is the result of this dreadful English weather and slippery sidewalks. Even if, and only _if _I had gone to see the inspector, it would've been no concern of yours," and with a slight dent in his dignity, he whipped around on his heels and walked towards the open doors.

"I would most certainly be a concern of mine," Alois shouted. "That fling you have going on with that cop is going to be the death of this organization. If you would start thinking with your brains rather than your penis, it would be much appreciated by me _and_ the gypsy verm-" Ciel closed the doors, blocking out the remainder of Alois's lecture. For a moment, he stood frozen, looking around the dimly lit and deserted corridor. After, he straightened his coat, marched to his bedroom and slammed the door shut after him.

* * *

Somewhere at twilight, as the sweet light fell through his window, Sebastian was rudely awoken by a stray dog, barking somewhere down the street. Evidently confused how he had gotten back to his own apartment, he gave his legs a swing to move into a sitting position. A burning ache soaring through the lower region of his back made him groan painfully and he fruitlessly placed his hand on the small of his back.

"What in blazes happened," he asked no one and arched his back with a tortured moan. He had no recollection of what had happened to him, only some vague fragments of what he assumed were memories of last night and some mud stains on his clothes to show for it.

He got up, finding his balance by grabbing on to one of the heavy beams overhead. His head was throbbing, which was nothing new, but the lower region of his body was hurting bad, and he had no explanation for it.

Stumbling to the bathroom, he gazed in the mirror and found his ghostlike counterpart staring back. He grinned lopsided, his teeth pearly and despite the bags under his bloodshed eyes, his appearance still entrancing.

"I don't know how you do it, Michaelis," he complimented himself and sought through his cabinet for some aspirin. After splashing water in his face and washing away the penetrating stench of alcohol and opium seeds, he pinched his cheeks and nodded confident. "Good to go yet another day," he told himself while smearing some cologne on his neck.

Putting on a slategray suit proved torture on his sore body and he cursed loud when he felt something snap. He rubbed the small of his back, knowing full well that the pain concentrated on a spot even lower but he did not dare to fathom the cause of _said_ pain.

Before stepping out, he went through the pockets of his coat, retrieved his satchel and put the money for his rent in an envelope. He even paid a month in advantage, knowing it would keep his landlord off his back for a good deal of time. Deliberately ignoring the stains on his dark coat, he left his apartment, slipped the envelope under the last door on the left and cautious not to wake the tyrant, he descended down the stairs and carefully pulled the front door shut.

It was still raining, something he knew most people dreaded this close to Christmas. Sebastian, however, could appreciate it when he saw the mud stains on his coat fading gradually. Knowing he had still time to spare before he had to be at the office, he made a quick stop at the tea shop to pay Undertaker a short visit. The silver-haired male was leaning heavily on the counter and cupped his forehead with his pale hand.

"What," he cried tortured when the bells chimed. Sebastian breathed a small chortle which made the shop owner perk up to see who came in. "What you want at this early hour, Michaelis?"

"Not much," Sebastian replied while lazily leaning on the counter as well. "Perhaps a cup of black tea and the details on what happened last night."

Undertaker peered at him through his heavy cowlick. "And what gives you the idea that I would remember anything. I think I spend all my tin on wenches and gin. I have little recollection of anything that happened after midnight."

Undertaker pondered for a second, than put a dog bone shaped cookie between his teeth and bit down hard, and as his jaws munched, he pondered some more. "I can't tell if you left with someone, but I know some guy was trying to get into your pants and you went on and on about some theory on drugs being related to the rich and the bank robberies that have been pestering London, not even remotely paying attention at how hot-"

"I what?" Sebastian interrupted him. Undertaker blinked surprised at him before huffing, giggling and tapping the inspector against the shoulder.

"Come on, inspector. The whole of London pretty much knows you don't go for the ladies. It is absolutely nothing to be ashamed off; especially at little China town."

"I didn't mean that," Sebastian snarled impatient. "The theory, about the rich, drugs and the bank robberies being connected somehow. What else did I say about that."

"Do I look like your secretary?" Undertaker snubbed. "I come to the den to indulge myself in the exotic taste of the forbidden fruits and _not_ to keep check of what you're rambling on about."

"Useless," Sebastian spat whilst wheeling around on his heels. "You're utterly useless," he said once one more before opening and slamming the door behind him. Undertaker groaned pained at the chiming of the bells and cupped his throbbing forehead while easily disregarding Sebastian's rude accusation.

At the Yard, Sebastian was ambushed by an overactive and fast talking Grell. Not even bothering to listen to all the gibberish, the inspector tried to focus on words of interest and when the red-head mentioned his boss and the world exhibition at the Olympia, it was time to tune in entirely.

"What of the exhibition?" He asked and continued his stroll to his office. Grell followed him closely, talking on and flailing his arms aimlessly.

"I have no notion of the specific details, but as I overheard from Mey-rin, who heard it from Hannah upstairs, we are supposed to stand guard at the exhibition to make sure nothing out of order happens. There are rumors that even the Queen herself is going to attend; something to do with a curry making competition, even if I think she should not indulge herself in such foreign fat foods. She's already plump enough as it is and-"

"Spare me the old wives tales and unnecessary details and cut to the chase. Are _we_, or more specifically, am _I_ supposed to stand guard at the exposition?" He asked with a hint of incredulity in his tone.

"Uhuh." Grell nodded innocently. "It was an order of the Constable himself and chief Faustus instructed me to tell you that it was not up for discussion so that you didn't need to bother… and why are you limping?"

"We'll see about that," Sebastian grumbled and walked into his office. "And the limp is none of your business," he added peeved. Grell followed dutifully but was almost trampled over when the inspector only went in to hang his coat, turned and marched out with firm and inattentive steps. Eager to the juicy details of the collision between his partner and his boss, the red-head followed him submissively.

Upstairs, Sebastian ignored Hannah as usual, and she now didn't even bother to stop him from entering Claude's office without checking if he was available. Claude's golden eyes briefly peered at them over the rim of his glasses and then turned back to the paperwork in front of him.

"I know what you want and the answer remains the same. This decision is not up for discussion."

With three large steps, Sebastian loomed over his boss and leaned down on the desk. "Neither is my reply. There is no chance in hell I am going to play guard at that exposition. I am not some recently graduated uniform. I'm an inspector and I have much more important work to do than to stand around and safeguard the curry. You can take him though," he added and jerked his head towards Grell.

Taking his leisure time, Claude finished writing his signature, put his pen down and laced his fingers under his chin. "Now you see, Michaelis, that is where you are mistaken. You will ensure order at the exposition because this was a direct order from Constable Gray and not open to suggestion or change."

Sebastian's irked expression softened and he raised an eyebrow. "Did I ever give you the impression that I care for what that addlebrain has to say. I will not lose a day of important work to babysit the snobs of London," he scoffed.

Claude grinned wide. "The Constable reckoned you would say something like that and his answer was as follows; should you refuse, you will be fired from the yard and arrested for using illegal substances during office hours."

Grell gasped and covered his mouth in a dramatic gesture. Sebastian was motionless for a few seconds and clacked his tongue after. Shaking his head in disbelief, he mumbled. "How wickedly clever of him."

"He must've become Constable for some reason," Claude remarked dryly. "Now if you will excuse me, I think we all have work to do. I expect the lot of you to be present at the Olympia at eight tomorrow morning; clean, dressed to a T and sober," he added.

Deciding to keep what was left of his wounded pride and in lack of an educated response, Sebastian turned on his heels and commanded Grell to follow him. The red-head gave his boss a short nod before gliding after the fuming inspector, respectfully greeting Constable Gray that was just entering the office.

"Problems?" The silver-haired male informed. Claude rose to his feet instantly and gestured politely to the chair opposite him and asked if the Constable cared for a spot of tea. Raising a hand, the male declined and sat down, unbuttoning the buttons of his white vest.

"Not at all," Claude replied and sank back down in his own seat. "Inspector Michaelis came to inform me about the latest progress on the burglary cases."

"He did," Charles Gray mused while slowly running his thumb across his bottom lip. "That is good. We need able men to work that case… which reminds me, completely off topic, have you arranged the security of the World Exposition yet?"

Grinning sly at his own cunning cleverness, Claude nodded. "Do not give that another thought, Constable, everything is taken care of, like you asked."

"Good," the Constable hummed. "Very good indeed. Well," he clenched the armrests and pushed himself to his feet. "That will be all for today. I will be leaving for a lunch with the major soon. Rest assure that I will put in a good word for you."

Rising to his feet, Claude bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Constable Gray. I would be very much delighted and indebted to you if you should do that."

Charles turned in the doorway. "Don't think your hard work goes unnoticed, Faustus. I am watching your progress with much delight," he said with a wink and a sly smile. "I am known to reward those who put a lot of effort into helping my causes."

"Thank you, Sir," Claude repeated himself and waited until the door had shut behind the Constable before he took a deep breath and settled back in his chair. Things were looking up for him, and having the Constable put in a good word for him with the major, was only aid to Claude's personal cause to take over and transform the Yard and lift it to its full potential.

Without having spoken a word since Claude had trapped him into standing guard at the World exposition, Sebastian entered his office and instantly buried himself in his work to forget the humiliation of having to give into Claude in front of Grell Sutcliff. The read-head had skipped after him, humming a too merry tune as he did. Now that said tune became louder and harder to ignore as Grell closed the office door behind him, Sebastian looked up and snapped rudely at him.

"Is that off key droning really necessary? I am trying to work here."

"Was rolling over submissively and accepting Chief Faustus's douche of authority really necessary as well?" Grell replied back in a sing a song voice. "I must admit that I was mildly disappointed."

Rendered silent for a moment or two, Sebastian blinked surprised at the flamboyant red-head. Putting back together what was left of his dignity and esteem, he barked at Grell that he could care less to live up to certain expectations.

"Less talking and more getting your useless posterior to work," the inspector growled whilst he himself bowed down over his own papers to hide the fluster of shame and aggravation that was splattered over his cheeks.

Deciding there was no point in kicking the man while he was already down, Grell accepted his authority with a respectful nod and went back to work, listening to Sebastian's every command and seeing it done accordingly.

* * *

The morning of the exposition, Sebastian hardly bothered to rush himself into getting at the Olympia hall in time. He still thought it was utterly ridiculous he had keep order at some pretentious event while he could be working on his case. Secondly, the terrible and unexplainable pain in his lower region was yet another reason he dreaded to stand on his feet all day. So, when he arrived half an hour later than original agreed on, he got a questionable glance from Grell. Greeting another set of guests, the red head shuffled closer to the inspector and subtly tried to smell at his jacket.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sebastian asked agitated. Grell's eyes rolled up to meet his and the red head instantly took a step back at the piercing and diabolic gleam in the crimson eyes.

"Are you sober," he asked hesitantly, lowering his voice so that the guest wouldn't hear. A wearily sigh emitted from Sebastian's lips and he soothingly rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, attempting to get control of his temper while his patience was already beginning to wane.

"Not that it is any of your business, but as a matter of fact, I am," he replied through gritted teeth whilst faking a charming grin at the couple that passed them. "Now shall we proceed inside. We're here to supervise, not to stand at the door and greet people. We're inspectors, not the welcome committee."

"Of course," Grell admitted, a blush blazing across his cheeks as he followed after his still painfully limping partner. Ten steps into the building, Sebastian had already lost Grell when the red head torpedoed through the crowd, stampeding towards a stand that displayed children's trinkets and such. The inspector rolled his eyes at it and waited, finding that it might be somewhat inappropriate to snuff out the social chitchat of the upper class mass by shouting rude comments at his partner.

Waiting, he nodded polite at the passing crowd, flashing a smile when needed and graciously accepting misplaced praise. But behind his mask of kindness, he grew more impatient and infuriated with every passing second. It was a smooth voice that saved him from exploding and he cocked his head to the right, his eyes instantly locking with the alluring blue ones of the Earl of Phantomhive.

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise," Ciel said, faking surprise to hide the amusement that sparkled so evidently in his eyes. "I never could've fathomed the yard would send its inspectors to overlook events like these."

"Neither could I," Sebastian admitted truthfully and cleared his throat audibly, trying to think straight as those plump lips smirked at him with a nonchalant air. "But I can only assume they needed professional security."

"Indeed," Ciel agreed with a nod. "And who better than the inspector who is so close to solve the burglary case that has London wrapped in its wicked grasp. It is good to see that the yard is not sparing any expense to protect to the safety of its civilians at such a frivolous event that is certain to boost the jolly spirit of Christmas, regardless of the pending thread of an unseen force of bane."

"Such expensive words. My nose might come to bleed in such rarefied air," Sebastian replied without any reserve. "I had no idea you would attend such blasé happening with the common aristocrats."

Ciel chortled and shook his head. "You are most correct, inspector. But alas, it is a necessary evil that I come to this event every year. After the expansions in China and America, Funtom has been the most prominent toy company in the world for many years now," he explained patiently and lifted his cane, pointing into the direction Grell had disappeared in.

Sebastian face twisted in disdain when he saw his partner bounce around the stall like an overly active child, pawing his way through the merchandise and hugging each sour looking bunny to his chest like a precious possession.

"Idiot," he muttered with a blush of vicarious shame and vexation on his cheeks.

"He does seem to enjoy our products, doesn't he?" Ciel observed randomly, gratification laced through his silky voice. Sebastian's lips formed a stern and thin line. He could hardly see the amusement in his partner making a mockery out of the inspectors of the yard.

"If you would excuse me, Earl Phantomhive," he excused himself with a short nod of the head. "But I was appointed to ensure the security of this event and I hardly have time to slack around and make meaningless conversation."

"Naturally," Ciel replied with a cordial smile. "I feel safe already," he commented further with a sly wink. "Do tell you partner he is welcome to pick one of the rabbits and keep it; free of charge. You are welcome to one as well."

"That is very kind of you but I already have to make do with _that_ useless trinket today," he nodded towards Grell. "That is more than enough for me. I shall tell him though. Good day, Sir," and he spun away from the Earl.

"You'd better nurture the cause of that limp of yours," Ciel spoke even before Sebastian had taken one step towards the stand. "Might make it hard to perform certain- _activities_."

Sebastian froze in place, whipped around and frowned at the empty spot next to him; the place where the Earl had been standing only moments ago. Whatever he had been trying to remember but what his mind had seemed to block out, came washing back in vague images of a dirty alley, pouring rain and warm breath, gasping down his neck.

"It couldn't be," he whispered as his eyes scanned the crowd, trying to locate the current location of the mysterious Earl. By clothing, he would hardly recognize him in between the dolled up posh and not feeling that unnatural attraction to any of the mouths he could see, he decided to let it go for now and go to pluck his partner away from the stuffed animals.

* * *

"Can you believe this, Sebastian?" Grell cooed with an armful of rabbits. "The toys keep sinking in price while the quality of it doesn't seem to have changed. If for anything, it might have improved. The ears are softer and they smell _so_ expensive," the red head sighed.

"Yes, yes, very nice. I am so overjoyed I can hardly speak. Now pick one of the bunnies, drop the rest and let's get to work."

"I don't have any money on me," Grell pouted.

"No matter. The Earl assured me you can pick one; free of charge."

"The Earl is here?!" The red head exclaimed, instantly dropping all the stuffed animals and tangling his fingers in the woolen fabric of Sebastian's coat. "Why didn't you come for me?"

"Exactly because of this. Your unprofessional reaction," Sebastian explained blunt and brushed the clenching fingers off. "Get on with it because the Earl already got away and it is our job to see to the safety of these civilians."

"And you suppose the Earl has some master scheme to burglarize some of the people here? Please, Sebastian, give the man some credit. He cannot be that stupid."

"Who's to say that _he_ would be acting alone? He could've had some of those circus artists of his rallied up and have them crash the event to clear himself of any blame. Do not underestimate the whims of the Earl for he is more wicked and cunning than he might seem."

"Your obsession with the Earl is going too far, Sebastian. If I did not know any better, I would say you're completely infatuated with him."

"I am _not_," Sebastian retorted irritated. "And I find that a very rude and personal allegation."

Grell lifted an eyebrow, nonchalance in the entire gesture. Even if the inspector's lips said now, his entire awkward and agitated demeanor begged to differ. His eyes shot left and right, searching the mass for a sign of the Earl. His jaw was clenched and his palms sweaty. When the crimson eyes landed on the red head, Sebastian hissed and stepped forward, grabbing the hem of Grell's coat and dragging him along.

"Stop looking at me like that and let's get to work. The sooner we've secured this place, the sooner we get to find out what Phantomhive is up to."

Letting an aggravated sigh emit from his lips, Grell brushed the hand off, straightened his overcoat and pursued the fast walking inspector around the Olympia hall, on the march to prove his outrageous theory.

The look in Alois's eyes and the skeptically raised eyebrow already said enough. Ciel raised a gloved hand and shook his head. "I do not need your criticism."

"You are beyond any criticism I could fathom. You're being a pathetic shadow of your former self. Chasing after that inspector like some captivated trollop that is seeking attention and approval. It truly saddens me and frankly, it makes me appalled to call you my friend."

"So I have been promoted to a friend," Ciel remarked sarcastically. "Would you keep your trivial nattering to yourself. We would've run into him eventually, but I wanted the first encounter to be a wee more sophisticated without you hovering around us like a sarcastic and snarky bumblebee."

Crinkling his nose and crossing his arms, Alois muttered offended. "You're the one who is hovering around his posterior and such. Somebody should make you aware of it and who better than your best friend."

Ciel pressed his lips together and clenched the silver knob on his cane. "And that potty mouth of yours is exactly why I wouldn't even think about bringing you along. You'd flap out some nonsense and draw all kinds of suspicion towards us."

"I don't think anything I would say would attract even more attention to us," Alois replied snide. Ciel simply rolled his eyes, nodded to the entrance and started walking. The blonde reached out his neck to see what the Earl had seen and sighed wearily when he spotted the bright colors and ginger hair.

Not bothering to look over his shoulder, Ciel called out to him. "Come along."

"Arrogant prick," Alois mumbled and reluctantly strode after Ciel.

Squinted crimson eyes roamed the public that grew thicker with pompously dressed people with every passing minute. Sebastian was keeping a close watch on the crowd, alert for any kind of commotion and meanwhile searching the mass for the plump lips of his main suspect.

They stood in the Asian part of the exposition and the mixed scent of curry and lotus drifted through the tangled thicket of stalls. Small Asian women stalked around, and it seemed like they were almost floating in their colorful kimonos. They offered branches with blossoming pink cherry blossom and cups of jasmine tea.

"Sebastian, don't you think this red kimono would look absolute _fabulous _on my _adorable_ figure."

His concentration was rudely broken when the red head nudged him in the ribs with his elbow and dotted on about a satin kimono. The inspector threw a quick look sideways and muttered. "It is a female kimono."

"So?"

"I hate to say this on behalf of the entire male population on this globe, but as nature has wrongfully chosen, you are a man, not a woman."

"Such vile words. What is up your bottom?"

"There is nothing up my bottom but we came here to work, not to frolic around and buy ridiculous clothing," Sebastian replied through clenched jaws.

"Yes, keeping a weather eye on the Earl," Grell shot back in a snappy manner. "I don't believe we were stationed here to keep track of the Earl's every step. You know, one of the first things we learned on the academy is not to focus solely on one suspect. It disallows you to keep an open mind to other options. So I truly think that-"

"Keep that thought to yourself. The Earl's assembly has arrived. So wrap up that female dress and try to keep up," Sebastian barked instructively and charged through the crowd. Grell shook his head, but without ado, he followed his partner.

Standing a few feet away from the group, refusing to get associated with the circus freak show, Alois leaned against an enormous palm tree and looked around with disinterest. He still thought Ciel's idea of letting the filthy vermin go through their personal belongings while he was stuck at the exhibition was too ludicrous, but he got passed it. But having to stand anywhere near the colorful robbing band in a public place, he refused. His wandering eyes contemplated the posh crowd and he found them all repulsively plain. Each spruced up to the t, he was little shy from repulsed by their herd behavior.

"Bunch of cattle," he cursed, not bothering to be subtle as an elderly pair walked by and heard his rude insult. They all moved in the same learned elegant manner and kept their voices lowered accordingly. So it came not as a shock that his eyes instantly caught a pair of men, moving in their own manner and literally charging at the colorful company. He groaned annoyed, pushed himself off the tree and moved to his friend. "Move aside, you loathsome barbarian," he snapped, pushing his way past Jumbo. The bald giant growled low. The blond paid no attention to it and tapped Ciel on the shoulder. "Your lover is making his entrance."

It took Ciel a lot of effort to hide the enthusiasm in his smile when he saw Sebastian march over. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his designated amused smirk. "You look like a man with a mission, inspector."

Coming to almost a skidding stop, Sebastian breathed heavily through the nose. "I see you invited your artist crew over," he spoke between gasps.

Ciel raised a puzzled eyebrow. "I did. Is that against the law? If so, I deeply apologize. I did not know that the exhibition was only for a certain type of people."

Rendered speechless, Sebastian pressed his lips together and tried to think of a witty reply. Grell glanced sideways, his eyes scanning his partner's face and the nearly constipated look made him pity the stubborn inspector enough to come to his aid. "It is not very conventional for a nobleman to invite artists over to an exhibition as elegant as this Earl Phantomhive, Sir."

"Well inspector Sutcliff, I'd like to see myself not as the average aristocrat. I appreciate all the efforts they put into making the circus a success, hence making good use of the money I invest in them. I reckon I could show my appreciation through inviting them to a festival of the wonders this world has to offer."

"If that is so, how come only half of the staff is here," Sebastian observed. Ciel opened his mouth to reply accordingly, but Alois beat him to the punch with one of his snarky comments.

"Because the rest of them is pillage and plundering like the common robbing weasels they are."

"Ha-ha, I think my good friend the professor has inhaled a little too much of the chemicals he works with," Ciel laughed awkwardly at the skeptical looks. "What he meant to say was-"

"If I may, Earl Phantomhive," the ginger haired male interrupted politely. "They are back at the circus, inspector. Somebody has to prepare for tonight's show," he explained with the utmost patience.

Even if they had wanted to, neither Sebastian or Grell could argue with the more than reasonable explanation. "Naturally," the raven haired inspector admitted, slightly peeved by the witty and undisputable reply. "The show must go on."

"Indeed," Ciel interjected, building further on the explanation. "The half that stayed behind today shall be joining me in the morrow while these fine people stay behind to prepare the show. It really is a fulltime job, being a true artist," he said, making their alibi watertight.

"So it would seem," Sebastian complied with a forced smirk and a short nod. "Have a pleasant day," he greeted before walking off. Grell flashed the group a quick smile and was once again forced to chase after the quick striding inspector.

* * *

The day proceeded naturally without any ado. No commotion or emergencies that needed the inspectors attention. The light of the sinking sun shone through the dome roof of the hall, bathing the mosaic floor in warm pinks and reds. Sebastian had given Grell a pardon and the red head had left before the rush of departing nobles. It was not as much in favor of his partner as it was in his own. His head was throbbing and he couldn't have handled the excitement with which the red head would see the crowd off.

Slogging down the street with his hands in his pockets, Sebastian choose to go back to the office and get some work done over going home and indubitably going out to get himself a fix of opium. He greeted the blonde officer at the door and walked into the nearly empty main hall of the Yard. One of the triplets nodded at him and turned back to his paperwork without a word. Mey-rin, who had been busy on the phone, perked up, cut the conversation short and jumped to her feet.

"Inspector Michaelis, you're here" she chirped, her hair bouncing wildly as she ran his way. "I was just calling the Olympia hall to inquire if you were still present. The Chief has been looking for you. Something awful has happened."

Sebastian frowned his brows. "What happened?"

"No time to explain," she twittered on while she almost jerked his coat off. "He told me to send you up the minute you arrived. He's waiting for you."

"Call him and tell him I am the least bit interested in his emergencies-" Sebastian began. His blatant speech of rebellion was loudly interrupted by the mauve haired girl. "Another nobleman has been robbed!"

Without hesitation, he marched to the stairs, took two steps at the time and turned right at the top. Disregarding the formalities of knocking, he threw the double doors open. Claude looked at him over his fingertips.

"Another robbery," Sebastian breathed. The Chief nodded solemn and turned to the person that was sitting in the chair opposite of him.

"I assume you already know one another."

Standing, the figure turned and the resilient blue eyes of Ciel shimmered delighted in the soft light of the desk lamp. His lean figure leaned elegantly on his cane, making his entire demeanor as sophisticated as ever. He smirked, not hiding his excitement to see the inspector for the third time today. "Inspector Michaelis," he almost whispered in a husky tone that send pleasant shivers down the spines of both officers.

Sebastian cleared his throat. "Earl Phantomhive," he acknowledged a little less enthusiastic. "I assume you are here to make a confession?"

"Michaelis!" Claude exclaimed. "Keep that forked tongue behind your teeth. I apologize, Earl Phantomhive. And you should do the same, Michaelis," he snapped through gritted teeth.

Ciel raised slowly raised a gloved hand. "It is quite alright, Chief inspector. This is a little game the good inspector and I seem to play. But to answer your question, no; I am not here to confess to anything. I came to report a crime."

Sebastian crossed his arms and leaned back on one leg. "Isn't that about the same in your case, Earl?" He remarked witty. Ciel chortled short but shook his head.

"It is not, inspector. I came here to report that my house has been burglarized."

* * *

Yes, since I left a short page from _The diary of an alcoholic_ up here, I will not bother you as much down here. Review, please, even if it sounds stupid and most people hate a begging or threatening writer; I truly need your support and your kind words motivate me. (emphasizing kind here, although I am trying to appreciate all sorts of reviews)

Thank you.


	10. File 10

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

So, another long time no see. I don't have much to say up here, just that I am terribly busy on starting my own business and writing my own novel so I hardly have time for updates. Here is a long one though, hope you will enjoy it.

O.

* * *

Sebastian threw the door to his office open and gestured inside without a word. Ciel threw a quick look sideways before entering. He neither flinched or jumped when the inspector slammed the door shut and pushed past him, bumping his shoulder against the Earl's.

"Have a seat," he rudely pulled out a chair. It was more a command than an offer but the Earl complied without a word. He sat down and calmly took in his surroundings while Sebastian rummaged through his drawers, pretending to look for something. Ciel's eye caught the evidence wall and he closely studied the progress they had made so far. A cool smile curled his lips when he noticed that they found the connection with Lizzy's clients; minor details that indirectly lead back to him. Maybe Alois was right and he had better be more careful with his next steps. Sebastian loudly clearing his throat drew his attention away from the wall and he smiled enchantingly.

"Quite the setup you have here, inspector. I must say that I am impressed."

Sebastian squinted until his crimson eyes were no more than slim slits. "Thank you. I take my work very seriously. It might not have been left unnoticed that your name comes up quite frequently," he walked around his desk, leaned his ass against the edge and crossed his arms. "Why is that, Earl Phantomhive?"

Ciel chortled delighted but stopped dead when the inspector did not join in his amusement. "You ask me, inspector? It is your investigation and I am sure you have some reason or another for this weird infatuation you seem to be having. Not to say that I am not flattered by it," he folded his gloved hands over the knob of his cane and leaned forward, his eyes cheekily staring up. "I welcome _any_ challenge."

Sebastian swallowed audibly and his evident discomfort was sweet gratification to the Earl. Deadly calm, he leaned back into the rather musty smelling chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. Unable to move without showing his growing erection, Sebastian spread his hands over the woody surface of his nearly ancient desk and leaned back, trying to look as comfortable as the Earl but probably failing horribly at it. "So. What brought you to the Yard?"

Ciel arched a skeptical eyebrow. "As you might've remembered from earlier, my house was burglarized and I am here to report that or give a statement whatever it is a victim is supposed to do. Frankly, this is the first time I've seen the inside of the Yard so do forgive me if I might come off as an inexperienced secular."

Sebastian huffed sarcastically. "Victim." He leaned forward until their eyes leveled and continued with a perfectly wicked smirk. "I think we both know that is a very far stretch. Tell me, do those circus puppets dance to your strings because you earned their respect one way or another or was this burglary besides a decoy also some sort of payment?"

"A decoy? Payment?" Ciel perched his lips and pretended to mold the words over. "Inspector Michaelis, might I be so bold to make a honest confession."

"Naturally," and Sebastian leaned in when the young Earl crocked his finger and beckoned him to lean in closer. Ciel's plum lips against his ear send alarmingly good shivers down his spine.

Ciel took his time to slowly breathe in and out against the cool skin of Sebastian's ear. The warm breath down his neck drove the inspector up the wall with excitement and the Earl seemed to be taking pleasure out of making him uncomfortable. "I must confess that I have no clue what you are talking about, Sebastian," he whispered.

Hearing his name roll over the Earl's tongue and leave his plump lips in that husky tone, Sebastian wanted nothing more than push the young man back in his chair and forcefully kiss him. More so, every fibre in his body was begging him to give into that primal lust that was roaring his chest like a wild animal but summoning every bit of willpower he could invoke, he cocked his head and put his own lips against the Earl's ear. Leaving aside the fact that he couldn't get over the soft touch and the fresh scent of the young man, he whispered on his turn. "I think we both know that is not true, Ciel." And before he could violently overpower him and give into his sexual hunger, he turned away and shoveled clumsily to the other side of the desk, persistent to hide the vast bulge in his pants. With much effort, he reached his safe zone and sank down in his chair, letting out an involuntary sigh of relief. Recollecting his thoughts, he found the courage to look the Earl in the eye again. Ciel was smiling charmingly and calmly replied.

"Is that so, inspector? How very exciting, something we both know. Almost makes us partners in crime, don't you agree?"

"I will agree that we both share an abundance of knowledge about crime but only one of is committing it," he answered coolly. Ciel's expression hardly changed and with his charming mask still intact, he rose to his feet and leaned heavy on his cane.

"Do you treat all your victims as suspects, inspector? The world you live in must be very black and white with no room for certain grey areas. I do not envy you in the least."

Following the Earl's example, Sebastian also rose to his feet. He placed the palms of his hands flat on the desk in front of him and bend over. "I only treat the guilty ones like I do you, Earl Phantomhive."

Ciel gave him a short nod, smiled cordially and turned. Half way, he changed his mind and turned back to the inspector. "You are most welcome to come and investigated the devastation they left in their trail."

"First thing in the morning," Sebastian replied. "And in the meantime, I would appreciate it if you order your staff not to touch or clean anything."

"Very well. I shall await your arrival," Ciel said and smoothly strode to the door. Sebastian followed him without a word and held the door open for him. "I am looking forward to it, inspector," the Earl whispered tauntingly before walking out. Sebastian was left with buckling knees and he had to lean against the wooden frame of the door to keep himself standing.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he called after the slate haired male. The bold tone he took with the nobleman silenced the remainder of the staff that had still been working and they all stared breathlessly from one to the other, feeling the palpable tension between the two males.

Ciel spun around and smirked wickedly. "Oh but I do, very much. Till the morrow," he put his collar up, pulled his top hat over his eyes and walked out. Eyes turned to the inspector for an explanation; he sighed irritated, turned on his heels and slammed the door, answering all unasked questions with one blow.

"That miserable punk," he cursed while stomping to his chair. He sank into the comfortable leather, put his fingertips together and placed them lightly against his burning lips. Unwanted desire soared through his body and made all his veins palpitate. The smell of the Earl still lingered in the air, captured between the walls of the room and he was suddenly ashamed of the tiny space he worked in. It must've looked pathetic; the loaded bookcases, empty glasses still reeking of whiskey, the filled ashtray and the worn leather chair; how had he allowed himself to become such a cliché?

Minutes of aimlessly staring at the spot Ciel had been sitting mere minutes ago, he couldn't bare the lasting scent of Ciel; with every breath, he got a whiff of it. The memory of how he had sat so calmly across from him and how he had even made that old musty chair like a refined piece of classical furniture. It was haunting him. Cautiously, he rose to his feet and walked around his desk. His eyes skittishly shot from the chair to the door and back as if he were doing something illegal. Reaching out to the old seat, he let his hand slide over the leather armrest and he could've sworn it was still warm. Bending down, he inhaled deep and delighted in the strong scent of Ciel. Throwing one more look at the closed door, he sank down and turned his head left and right, breathing in the scent all around him.

His hands slid smoothly forward over the armrests and digging his fingertips in the supple fabric, the dragged his nails up the leather, feeling it bend under his hands and imagining it was Ciel's skin. All his blood left his brain and flowed to his groin, causing a massive erection. The vast bulge jerked against the fabric of his pants, begging for soft hands to rub it. Sebastian closed his eyes and rolled his head in his neck, stroking the clad dick soothingly. It took all his imagination to imagine his own hand was another's; that it was Ciel stroking his dick while looking up at him with those shimmering blue eyes and his plump lips, slightly parted, smirking that wicked smirk of his that wrapped Sebastian around his finger every time he spared him one. He groaned low, sucking hard on his bottom lip, knowing in the back of his mind the illusion was probably not even half as good as reality could be, but he had to make do and it already satisfied him more than any other male had done in reality.

"Ciel," he breathed and groaned at how the name rolled off his tongue in his own honey like voice. It was wrong. Absolutely wrong and strictly forbidden which made the thought only even more alluring. His breathing became more erratic and rubbing himself harder, he moaned Ciel's name repeatedly. In his mind, the plump lips closed around the tip of dick and slowly slid down, the warm tongue teasing the underside of his shaft. He felt his dick jerk wildly against his hand and tension was starting to built up in his legs. He bucked his hips, groaning and pumping into the imaginary mouth of the Earl. Moments, he knew it would only take a few more seconds and while his fantasy sunk his dick inside Ciel's ass, he squeezed his erection hard and gave it one last sloppy rub and came.

With orgasmic euphoria calming every nerve that had been on edge since his first run-in with the Earl this afternoon, he hardly heard the knock on his door. He made a sound that meant nothing to him but obvious gave the person outside his door the ok to come in.

"Inspector Michaelis," he raised his hand, stopping Mey-rin dead in both her track and question. He dropped his limb and sat up. In the pause that followed, he collected his thoughts and thought careful about his next course of action. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and hid the wet stain in his pants in the shadow of his torso.

"What is it, Mey-rin?" His tone was bothered and told the girl to make it quick.

"Your notes on the conversation with the Earl of Phantomhive? Can I have those so that I can start a file on the investigation."

Sebastian dragged a hand over his chin, sighed and stood, careful not to turn to the girl before he reached the safety of his desk and the furniture would hide the wet spot of his sinful pleasure. "I will give you to them first thing in the morning. Go home, it is late," he concluded and yanked his coat off the back of his chair.

"But Chief Faustus said-"

Sebastian gave her little time to protest when he strode past her, now using his coat to cover his pants. "Leave Chief Faustus to me. Have a good evening," and with that, he left the mauve girl standing, amazed and rendered completely silent.

* * *

Outside, he clumsily pawed his coat on, buttoned it up and put his collar up. It was cold and the icy wind wiped at his cheeks and nose as he descended down the stone steps and turned right, taking sturdy steps down the street. He felt sickened by his own weakness. His stomach cringed and he felt foul tasting bile rise in his throat. He tried to swallow it but two streets down, he had to step into an alley. He threw up, barely missing his own shoes. He placed an unsteady hand against the cold wall and used the leverage to stand straight. A couple down the alley hadn't even looked up and persistently kept going, the prostitute shrieking shrill while the drunk slammed into her with uncoordinated moves. Sebastian bend down, took a handful of fresh snow and shoved it into his mouth, only to spit it out right after, ridding himself a little from the tangy after taste. He straightened his coat, turned and walked on like the entire incident hadn't happened.

Only after he lost all his stomach contents he realized how hungry he was. He changed course and walked to his usual pub. The doorman just threw a couple out and nodded politely at the regular, opening the door for him before he went to yell at the drunk sailors never to come back. Sebastian moved swiftly through the crowded room and took one of the few empty seats that were left at the bar.

"One pint," he raised a finger at the tender. He spared him a reserved smile and went to fix his drink. Sebastian lit a smoke and let his eyes wander. Unexpectedly, he came across a person he knew all too well. He took the jug of beer the tender just put in front of him, stood and rounded the bar. Claude sat hunched over his own drink and barely noticed anything that was happening around him, although he didn't even jerk when Sebastian let his hand come down on his shoulder. He cocked his head and jerked it a little when the male sat down next to him. "Hannah kick you out again?"

"I was supposed to have dinner with her and her parents tonight," Claude answered and took a sip of his beer. "I completely forgot."

"No you didn't," Sebastian replied.

"I know," Claude confessed honestly.

"You need a place to stay?" Their eyes met and all the tension from Claude's face seemed to fade away instantly at the proposal.

"If you don't mind."

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself this time," Sebastian smirked into his drink. Claude groaned bothered and jugged back his drink.

"Don't even remind me, please."

"Alright," Sebastian threw back his own drink and slammed the jug down. "And if you pick up the tap tonight," he added cheekily. Claude squinted until his golden eyes were slim slits behind his rimless glass. "Fine," he finely sighed. Satisfied, Sebastian raised his hand and yelled. "Tender, two more pints and your finest steak."

* * *

The next morning Sebastian got himself ready and left the apartment without waking Claude. The last thing he needed when he went to the Earl's mansion was his Chief watching his every move. After last night, Claude had once again proved to Sebastian that he was secretively drawn to a not so conservative life and it had been up to the rouge inspector to keep his boss from turning himself into bribery material.

Unconsciously he had spend more attention to his appearance than usual and before stepping out, he even checked his looks in the mirror. In the stairwell he avoided a confrontation with his landlord by pushing some money in his hand and promising him he'd get the rest by the end of the week. The man uttered a gruff insult but didn't keep him up with the same lecture about rent Sebastian already heard one too many times. He pushed the coins in his pants pocket and they jingled merrily as the landlord walked on to collect more rent.

The street and houses were covered with a fresh pack of snow and by the looks of it, more was to follow. Grell was waiting for him outside the fence. Dressed in his ridiculous red coat and a thick matching scarf he stood out like a sore thumb against the pure white snow. He was grinning and excitedly waving a paper. "Have you read the news?"

Sebastian snatched the paper out of Grell's hands. "What are you doing here?" He snarled. Grell ignored it and tapped on the front page.

"The Earl of Phantomhive's mansion has been burglarized. So, the stunningly brilliant inspector I am, I assumed you would be heading to the Phantomhive mansion first thing in the morning. Since I have been dying to see that mythical place with my own eyes, and I know you would've never asked me to come along, I took the liberty of inviting myself."

Sebastian's eyes briefly scanned the front page before he looked at his partner with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "How did you know what time I would leave?"

"I didn't," Grell admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "I've been standing here for nearly two hours now. That's why I'm dancing a little; I'm very cold and I have to use the little boy's room."

Sebastian sighed and pushed the paper into Grell's hands. "You're a complete idiot," he muttered and stepped forward to hold a carriage. "The exact reason I did not want you to come along," he continued. A coach stopped. He opened the door and set his foot on the step. With a weary sigh, he turned to look over his shoulder at the freezing red head. He stepped aside. "Get in," he muttered annoyed. A gleeful sound emitted from his partner's lips and he thanked him royally as he climbed into the carriage. "I'm going to regret this," Sebastian told himself while climbing in. "Phantomhive Mansion," he called to the coachman before closing the door shut.

He had done his best to ignore the overly delighted Grell during the ride that lead them to the outskirts of London. But when the roof of the mansion rose above the trees, and the red head bounced up and down a little too eagerly, Sebastian threatened to let the coachman slow down a little so that he could toss him out of the carriage.

"Slow down?" Grell shrieked; his electrifying green eyes blinking confused. "You do care," he cooed breathlessly after he had gotten over the initial shock of his partners threat.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Only you can see the positive side of such an intimidation," he drummed his knuckles against the roof. The carriage came to a smooth stop at the start of the drive.

"Why are we stopping here?" Grell watched Sebastian get out. "It is freezing out there and so warm and cozy in here. Can't you let him bring us to the front door."

"No I cannot. Who knows what clues remain undiscovered when we don't take our jobs seriously. Now get out," Sebastian snapped his fingers as if he were telling a dog to heel. Grell shuffled from the warm comfort of his seat to the cold wind that came in through the wide open door. Emphasizing his displeasure, he wrapped his arms around himself and chattered his teeth. Sebastian paid no attention to it, told the coachman to wait at the small inn they just passed and to pick them up in an hour. With a distorted look filled with melancholy, Grell watched the coach drive off. "Shall we continue?" Sebastian called. Without the red head noticing, he had already started down the lane, closely looking left and right for clues. Grell let out a sigh of disdain. It came out in a small cloud.

"Heartless demon," he muttered under his breath and stomped after his partner.

Ten minutes down the road there was still no sign of the gates that lead to the mansion and Grell was seriously starting to wonder if they were lost; even if they had barely strayed of the path. To keep himself occupied, he scooped up snow, molded it into a ball and threw it so that it soared over Sebastian's head and landed mere inches ahead of the inspector. Not bothering wasting time by lecturing his partner, Sebastian pretended to not notice and persistently kept looking for what could be clues of a setup.

"What kind of evidence do you suppose to find out here?" Grell had ceased his rebellious actions and had caught up with Sebastian. Hands lazily behind his head, he still did not make any effort to help his partner track down things that seemed out of the ordinary. "Had there been trails of footsteps, they're long covered by inches of snow. Secondly, if there had been such a trail, who's to say that it aren't the footsteps of some other poor bastard who's partner forced him to walk," he whined.

"If I had known you were going to give a running commentary on my methods, I would've left you on the sidewalk," Sebastian said, failing to put the normal vexation in his voice when he saw something out of the ordinary. He stepped over a large pile of snow and reached out. Dead leaves rustled when he reached into the bush and grasped something. Triumphantly, he held it against the light of the watery sun that fought a hard battle to shine through the thick clouds. Grell looked skeptic and he raised both his finger and eyebrow.

"A piece of fabric? Brilliant! It is not like it could've been ripped off the cloak of any horseman that has driven up and down this lane the past years."

"Could be," Sebastian confirmed whilst stepping closer and smirking mischievous. "But have you ever seen a horseman wearing such a colorful cloak?" He said and held up the blue and red checkered piece of fabric.

* * *

Ciel had woken up long before Tanaka came to wake him. His eyes had been wide open and he had felt the morning light caress his face when the butler had opened the curtains.

Breakfast was dull. Alois was the only one to accompany him and all he could speak of was how he felt someone did indeed snoop around his chemicals, even if they agreed on not letting someone enter the basement during the robbery. Ciel only pretended to listen him badger on about things he could care less about while calmly drinking his tea and enjoying the sunbeams that fell through the high windows in the dining room.

"You know, Alois," he suddenly interrupted him. "The inspector of the Yard shall be coming over soon. If you keep dawdling on this particular subject, I'd rather have you leave the premises."

"And leave you alone with the inspector? How much of an idiot do you think I am?"

"Is that an actual question?" Ciel grinned cheekily over the rim of his cup. "Because I do not think you will find the answer I'd give you to your satisfaction."

"Always the joker," Alois retorted indifferently. "And while you're trying to be funny and charming and making an effort to get that inspector to notice you, I'll make sure he doesn't actually find something suspicious."

Ciel pushed his chair back and stood. "Oh please," he said and wiped his mouth at his napkin. "I don't have to try to be charming. I already am," he told the blonde with a wink and threw his used napkin on his plate and turned on his heels. "Clean up the basement before they get here. I don't want any suspicious chemicals lying about," he ordered and left the room.

"Clean up the basement," Alois mimicked him in a childish voice. "My chemicals will be the least of our problems today," he said and stood. He too threw his napkin down and stomped out of the room.

* * *

"I cannot believe I am going to see the Phantomhive manor."

Ever since the mansion appeared at the horizon, Grell had been expressing his admiration for the grace the estate was built with and how marvelous the enormous garden was. How the paths that lead to the mansion had already been wiped clean and how beautifully the bushes and trees were kept.

"Sutcliff. Stop being overly excited. This is a professional visit. If you intent to act like a loon while we're inside, I'd prefer you stay outdoors. I cannot have you jeopardize the investigation. I need you to search for clues, not marveling over the décor."

"I cannot help myself," the red head pouted. "I cannot help appreciating the beauty in this world and if the Earl's taste in clothing is any indication, his house will be picture perfect- oh look at those windows, aren't they marvelous?!"

Sebastian walked the stone steps that lead to the front door. "I am serious, Sutcliff," he said, turning towards his partner and raising a finger. "I will leave you out here if you're going to act like a babbling idiot. I cannot use you like that."

"I will contain my excitement. I promise. Please don't make me stand outside," the red head pleaded. "I promise to be a good boy, please let me come with you."

"Fine. But one word or action that is not professional, you're out." Sebastian warned him in a threatening manner. Grell nodded exuberantly, his red glasses bouncing up and down the bridge of his nose. Already aware that he made a bad decision, Sebastian turned to the door and hesitated a moment before curling his fingers around the silver door knocker. He knocked; three times to be sure. He heard Grell's irregular breathing. He was doing his best to hide his excitement and Sebastian could only appreciate him for it. Especially when the door opened and the red head chewed on the inside of his cheek to hold in what would've been a high pitched squeal.

"Inspectors Michaelis and Sutcliff I presume," the old butler asked. It sounded more like a statement than anything. Sebastian offered him a slick smile.

"Good morning. We are expected by the Earl of Phantomhive," he said, raising the badge with his name and profession on it out of habit."

"Yes. The Earl is expecting you. Do come in please," the butler stepped out of the way to let the two inspectors in. "Can I take your coats gentlemen?"

As the butler went to put away their icy cold coats, the two inspectors took their leisure time to take in their surroundings. Grell's mouth had dropped to the floor and Sebastian knew he wanted to say something about the sparkling decorations and marble floors.

"Just one thing," he whispered to throw his partner a bone. He assumed it would be better to get it over with so that the red head could focus properly during the investigation. What was supposed to be one thing came out in a long and breathless sentence.

"Oh-my-Lord-look-at-the-Christmas-decorations-and- the-marble-and-that-gorgeous-chandelier!-I-want-to -live-here-no-scratch-that-I-want-to-die-here-and- die-inbetween-all-this-perfection-and-splendor.-Th is-is-so-stunningly beautiful!"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at his partner who was now gasping for breath. "You done?" He asked; every syllable drained with sarcasm. Grell took a deep breath and clasped his cheeks with both hands, pointing left and right and making undefinable noises. Sebastian slapped a hand over his eyes and prayed no one would see them like this.

"You're late."

The inspectors whipped around. At the top of the stairs stood the stoic blonde that always seemed to be in the company of the Earl. Sebastian had given their tight bond some thought but he figured it was best not to wonder about it. The idea was preposterous and mad him boil on the inside.

"Terribly sorry Mister-"

"Earl of Trancy. It is Earl of Trancy," Alois corrected him snobbishly.

"Again, terribly sorry Earl Trancy," Sebastian apologized and flashed him one of his charming smiles. "Forgive us our tardiness but we walked the entire drive."

Alois crossed his arms over his chest. "Snooping around for clues I assume?" He asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow. Sebastian only nodded as confirmation. Slowly, the blonde descended down the stairs. "Well, follow me," he beckoned them. "Ciel is in his office."

The walked through a dimly lit hall with high ceilings and shiny marble floors. Every inch of wall was covered with portraits and by the similarities in the pictures, it had to be images of the past generations of the Phantomhive family. At the end was a pair of double doors. Alois threw them wide open and stepped inside.

"They're here," he informed casually and went to sit down on a navy blue sofa in the left corner.

The office was surprisingly light after the dark hallway. The interior was simple. A large desk. Vast bookcases that reached towards the ceiling and were filled to the brink. The blue sofa and some matching chairs and curtains. A gorgeous silver chandelier like the one in the hallway. Wood crackled pleasantly in the enormous marble fireplace and above it hung a picture of a young Ciel with what Sebastian assumed were his parents. Now that he had made a quick survey of the room, his eyes turned to the Earl. He had been sitting there, waiting patiently for them to take in their surroundings.

"Welcome inspectors," he stood and walked around his desk. "So glad you could join us on this particularly beautiful Christmas morning. Have you had breakfast yet? I am sure our chef can easily whip up something. He makes excellent scones."

"No thank you," Sebastian raised a hand, palm out, to stop his insistence. "We are perfectly fine."

"Well I could go for some-" Grell shut his mouth and pressed his lips tightly together. The look Sebastian shot him the moment her started talking had been one that couldn't predict anything good. Pleased with the result, Sebastian cleared his throat and continued.

"Besides. We are not here for a casual visit. If you would please direct us to the scene of the crime. The sooner we start out investigation, the sooner we'll be out of your hair."

"Please inspector. You are welcome to stay for as long as necessary. No need to rush your investigation. Be as thorough as you can. Perhaps you will uncover some new evidence that'll put these scoundrels behind bars. Isn't that right, Alois?"

"Indubitably," Alois answered through gritted teeth. His expression was calm but his fingers drumming impatiently on the empty seat next to him hinted that he might not be as careless under his stoic mask.

"I will show you the way," Ciel motioned to the door and followed the two inspectors. Before leaving the room, he shot Alois a meaningful look. The blonde gave him a short nod that seemed to ease the Earl's worries. "Stay here," he mouthed to his friend.

"And give you the opportunity to make a running mockery out of yourself? Not a snowball's chance in hell," Alois pushed himself up and walked over. "Try to keep it in your pants this time," he whispered in Ciel's ear before exiting the room.

"That might proof to be very hard," Ciel mused to himself and closed the doors behind him.

* * *

The party of four walked the hallway in silence. Even without exchanging any words nor secretive looks, the tension between Sebastian and Ciel was tangible. Grell excitedly looked left and right, gazing from one to the other. He was dying to say something. Anything! But he knew that if he opened his mouth, he would make not only himself look like a fool but his partner as well. To get away from what was surely sexual tension between the two, he slowed down his walk until he walked next to Alois who had made little effort to keep up.

"So," the red head began. "Been living with the Earl some time now?"

"Spare me the social talk. I am not keen on talking to worthless little maggots such as yourself and your partner. So for the time we are forced to spend together, you are not allowed to talk."

"I believe this is where they entered."

Ciel opened a door heavy oak door and stepped into the room. Setting only one foot inside, Sebastian was overwhelmed by the smell. It was Ciel's room, without a doubt, and even with the ceiling high windows wide open, the sweet fragrance that was so significant to the Earl lingered in the air. His eyes wandered around aimlessly, not knowing what to look at first. The closet that contained his clothes. The mirror he would look at himself in. The chandelier that casted it's soft light onto Ciel's face at night. The tiny bench at the end of the bed. The bed… He took a deep breath and could only imagine how those soft looking pillows and bedding would smell and feel like.

"Were there any windows broken?" He asked undisturbed. He wasn't undisturbed, he was restless. He wanted to cover every inch of the room, if only to get a whiff of that intoxicating smell. He wanted to drop down on the canopy bed and stick in nose into a pillow, inhaling _him_ deeply.

"There were not," Ciel replied and walked to the with windows covered wall. "But this one," he beckoned Sebastian to come over and pointed to the lock. Sebastian bend down to take a closer look.

"It is tempered with," he concluded after a quick examination.

"Indeed," Ciel breathed the answer into his ear and it caused goosebumps all over his body. He cocked his head and his nose was mere inches away from Ciel's parted lips. He swallowed audibly but refused to let the Earl notice how pleasantly uncomfortable he felt.

"Was anything stolen out of this room?"

Ciel slowly shook his head. "Nothing of importance," he said and stepped back, straightening his back. Sebastian followed and could gradually feel his irregular breathing go back to normal.

"The importance of the stolen objects does not matter," Sebastian replied, waving Ciel's indifference away. "I shall be needing a detailed list of all the things you believe were taken from you. Money, jewelry. Even things you feel do not matter, write them down. It could just be the case that that thing you feel is unimportant is distinguished enough to tell that if we find the culprit and the stolen goods, we have proof that person was indeed the offender."

"Very well," Ciel nodded. "I shall do my very best to remember all that was stolen. Now if you would care to follow me to what I believe is the crime scene," Ciel turned on his heels and walked out. Sebastian threw one more longing look around the room and closed the door behind him.

The room that had suffered the most damage was the library. Chairs cut open and stuffing pulled out. Books yanked out of the bookcases, pages torn out. Paintings ripped off the walls. It was an utter chaos. Sebastian and Grell looked around, carefully examining the catastrophe while Ciel explained how they had blown up the safe with an unknown object. Sebastian dictated everything that could be a clue and Grell wrote his words down carefully.

"There is no other room we need to look at?" Sebastian asked after they had walked out and Ciel closed the doors to the library. The Earl exchanged a quick look with Alois.

"Not that I am aware off. Tanaka, my butler, searched the house to see if they could've gotten in any other way but the window proved to be the only thing tempered with."

Now Sebastian and Grell exchanged a skeptical look and the former cleared his throat. "Not to undermine your theory, Earl Phantomhive, but I find it hard to believe that with the rather easy excess to your basement, they choose to use a ladder, climb one story and break in through a window. Would you mind if we take a look at your basement, just to be sure."

That seemed to have struck a chord with both Earl's and tiny cracks started to form in their calm masks. Alois subtly tried to get Ciel's attention but he ignored him.

"You seem to hesitate," Sebastian pocked. "Do you have something to hide?"

With a confident smile that would've knocked Sebastian straight of his feet had he not be too curious about the basement, Ciel replied.

"Of course not, inspector Michaelis. Follow me please."

They descended down the stairs, turned a corner and passed through the dining room. It had a lovely view of the back garden but now both Sebastian and Grell could easily ignore it. Through another door they walked into the much more simple servant quarters and headed into a right direction. Passing the kitchen and smelling whatever was cooking, Sebastian only noticed how hungry he was and his stomach growled in protest. Ciel stopped at the very end, opened a door and switched on a light.

"This way gentlemen," he motioned to steep steps that went down the dimly lit basement. Sebastian nodded polite and went in, closely followed by Grell.

The had only taken two steps when they inhaled a sharp smell that made their eyes prick terribly. Sebastian reached into his pocket and used a glove to cover his nose and mouth.

"What is that smell?" Grell's voice was muffled by the scarf he used to cover the lower half of his face. "It hurts my eyes. They burn terribly."

"Onions," Sebastian concluded when he got to the bottom of the stairs and pointed to an enormous wooden barrel that was filled to the brim. Putting much effort into ignoring the burning sensation that made his eyes water, he walked around the basement. He found a board with finely chopped onions and some foreign residue. "Grell. Have a look at this," he called.

"A look at what? I can barely see anything," the red head whined dramatically.

"This dust," Sebastian nodded to the board. Grell bend down and squinted his eyes tight.

"It seems like some kind of powder," the red head fingered it and brought it to the tip of his tongue, tasting it carefully. "Gun powder if I am not mistaken."

"Interesting," Sebastian mused. "Write that down and take a sample. Use this," he reached into in pocket and pushed an envelope into Grell's hands. "I'll look around some more so that we can leave this place as soon as possible."

Quickly, Sebastian walked around, checking locks on windows and on the door behind the stairs. All were locked and did not seem to have been tempered with. Grell called he was done and both almost raced up the stairs. At the top, Ciel was waiting with wet cloths. Both took them gratefully and dapped their eyes.

"I am terribly sorry for that. I should have warned you that the chef chops his onions downstairs to keep the kitchen from reeking of it. Found anything interesting?"

"No matter and no; we found nothing out of the ordinary," Sebastian replied.

"But we-" Grell protested. Sebastian whipped around and gave him a meaningful look.

"Yes. We did find a locked door under the stairwell. Anything we should know about?"

"That is the wine cellar," Ciel replied. "I can assure you that they have not been in there but you are free to go and examine for yourselves."

"I believe you, Earl Phantomhive. And thank you for this," Sebastian handed back the cloth. "We should take our leave now so that you can get back to your work. Come along Grell."

* * *

Tanaka was already waiting at the door with their coats. Alois, who had probably been aware of the enormous stench of onions had cleverly stayed behind and was now leaning casually against a pillar. Ciel walked them out and thanked them for their time.

"Please do hurry with that list, Earl Phantomhive. The sooner we have all the evidence collected, the sooner we will be able to arrest whomever has committed these crimes," Sebastian told him while shaking Ciel's hand. He could only be glad he was wearing gloves at the time because skin contact with the Earl could've only allured more sinful thoughts.

"I shall, inspector Michaelis. Thank you for being so thorough with this investigation. I am sure you will catch whomever did this accordingly. One more thing though. Do I have your permission to start cleaning up the mess they made. I am having a small Christmas gathering tonight."

"Naturally," Sebastian offered him a wide smile and nodded at Alois. "Gentlemen."

Grell had been waiting in the carriage as Sebastian had told him to. The envelope that contained the evidence was securely folded and tugged in his vest pocket. Afraid to lose it more than anything, his hand was scrupulously pressed against his coat, right at the spot where there envelope was snugly stuffed away. Finally, the door opened and Sebastian got in.

"Why did you hide this from them?" Grell asked instantly. Sebastian closed the door, tapped against the roof and the carriage started moving. "This is proof that something fishy is going on there and you did not ask them about it?"

"Sometimes it is best to not let your enemy have a look at your cards. It gives us an advantage that they do not know off. They think they might've gotten away with it and with their delusion of grandeur, they are bound to become less careful. Ergo, we will catch them through their own carelessness."

"Brilliant," Grell concluded breathlessly. "Although. How can you be sure they will become more careless?" He hesitated. Sebastian sat back with a most satisfied smirk.

"Because they think themselves invincible. We deluded them into think so. Mark my words. We will soon uncover more evidence than we can handle."

"Oh how exciting this all is," Grell squealed and wiggled in delight. "I'm as giddy as a school girl. Oh bless me what a day. Not only did we uncover hard evidence, I also got to have a look around the infamous Phantomhive mansion. Not even to mention the vibrant tension that was in every room."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow at him. "Vibrant tension? What are you gibbering about?" Grell bend forward and grinned knowingly.

"The way you and the Earl of Phantomhive looked at each other. I know that look. The look of passion mixed with a hint of humiliation; William always used to give it to me when I mentioned how sultry our rendezvous could have been. You and the Earl of Phantomhive," he toned down his excitement when he saw the diabolic gleam in Sebastian's crimson eyes and whispered. "You had sex with him."

"What on earth inspires you to concoct such a ridiculous assumption, Sutcliff? You do realize that you are talking about our suspect?" Sebastian hissed through clenched teeth. Grell did not pay attention to it and swooned over the idea.

"Yes, about our suspect and you mounting each other like lions, erratically seeking dominance in an animalistic game of passion," Grell sighed, cupping his cheeks and wiggling his body in excitement. "Oh it is all so exhilarating. The inevitable collision between good and evil. The rejection of society, oh, it is deliciously scandalous," he gasped.

"Would you keep such blatant lies to yourself," Sebastian whacked Grell over the head with one of his gloves. "The Earl and I did no such thing," he fumed and even when those vague images that had been plaguing him played in front of his eyes, he kept denying. "Our relationship is strictly that of an inspector and a suspect. Do not bestow your twisted fantasies upon me. I do not care for them nor do I wish to know what is going on in that nutshell you call a head. From now on, you're not allowed to talk!"

Grell twitched. "Did you overhear the Earl of Trancy earlier?"

"As a matter of fact I did," Sebastian nodded. "And I approved of his methods. Now shut it before I find other manners to keep you quiet."

* * *

The rest of the ride back to the Yard was a quiet one. Grell was sulking and Sebastian was enjoying the resentful silence and took this time to try and make sense of those blurry memories. Back at the office, he pawed at Grell's coat without asking, unbuttoned it and retrieved the envelope. As he ran up the stairs, Grell fanned himself with his hand to cool himself down.

Hannah was ignored. It had become their thing. She didn't even bother to stop him anymore and let him barge into Claude's office. "Undeniable proof," he called, waving the envelope in the air.

Claude looked up from his paperwork and raised an eyebrow. "Undeniable proof of what?"

"That the Earl of Phantomhive is our suspect. Our culprit," he slammed the envelope down and tapped on it with his forefinger. "This envelope contains gunpowder we retrieved from his basement. It was on the board along with chopped onions. Also," he reached into his pocket and retrieved the piece of fabric. "We found this in a bush along the drive to the manor. There. How is that for irrefutable evidence?" Sebastian stood back and crossed his arms with a triumphant smirk.

Less enthusiastic, Claude hooked his pen into the envelope and lifted it a little. "So you found gunpowder and onions. That only proofs that they eat onions and clean their guns in the basement. How is that for demolishing your irrefutable proof?"

"He did this. All of this," Sebastian threw his arms in the air. "He is our culprit and I will proof it. Once we go and take a closer look at the circus I am positive we will find all the jewelry and stolen antiques. If it is not there, I am sure we will find it in his locked wine cellar."

Claude sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "And might I ask if this ingenious theory of yours also includes a motive? Why would the Earl of Phantomhive, the richest noble in London, possibly England, steal from other aristocrats? It hardly makes sense."

"For poops and giggles? I do not know. Maybe he likes acting out and being a rebel. Point is; with this kind of evidence, we do not need a motive. All we have to do is follow our noses and they will lead us to the stolen goods," Sebastian concluded.

"Hold that thought," Claude raised a finger and reached for the ringing phone. Sebastian could hear by the fast manner in which Mey-rin spoke it had to be something important. Claude only hummed and nodded, not giving away anything that could tell Sebastian what their conversation was about. "Thank you," Claude hung up, pushed his chair back and stood.

"You can tell me all about this conclusion of yours in the morrow. Right now we are requested to show up at the Phantomhive manor tonight. The Earl says he has a list of items that had been stolen from his home ready and he would like to give it to you in person. You need to hurry home and change," he said while grasping Sebastian's shoulder, turning him and walking him to the door. "And if I hear as much as one accusing word tonight, there will be severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Sebastian smirked.

"Good," Claude replied and smashed the door in his face. Hannah raised an eyebrow at him and opened her mouth to say something. She decided against it, shook her head and focused on her work again. Satisfied with the turn of events, Sebastian prayed her a good day and descended down the stairs, deciding on how he would expose the Earl tonight and which costume would look good with that.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you for reading and a review would be terribly nice and appreciated. For those who are wondering; yes, the next chapter will be smutty and extremely scandalicious!


	11. File 11

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

I did not proof read this and it is currently too late to do so. So beforehand, I'd like to apologize for any grammatical mistakes or other errors. I shall correct those in the morning.

Enjoy!

O.

* * *

"Can I count on you to act professionally?"

Before entering the refined home of the Earl of Phantomhive, Claude pulled Sebastian briefly aside for a quick but sturdy talking to. Sebastian arched an indifferent eyebrow at his boss. Golden eyes were blatantly warning him to play tonight by the book. There was no trace left of last night's Claude who had told society to go screw itself.

"Define professionally," Sebastian dared him with a smug smirk.

Claude sighed irritated, fingering his pulsing temples. "You know damn well what I mean Michaelis and I am warning you. If you dare accuse the Earl of any wrongdoing or if you pull any of your regular hogwash, the consequences will be severe."

"Really?" Eyebrows arched in faked surprise. "Might I inquire what said consequences would be? You know, so that I can decide if my actions are worth it."

"Sebastian!" Claude's voice spat out his name in a low venomous hiss. "I am very serious about this. Step out of line and not I but the Constable, who will be attending tonight as well, will most certainly find a suitable punishment for your ignoble behavior."

Sebastian stuffed his hands in his pockets and cocked his head. "Are we done?" He asked, retrieving a tiny tin box from his coat. He popped a cigarette between his lips and tried to look nonchalant doing so. Unfortunately, his hands were shaking uncontrollably, giving him trouble with his lighter. Finely, the head of the match enkindled and a weak flame drew up.

"What is the matter with you?"

Claude had been watching his every move. Closely. As if he were studying him. The look in the golden eyes seemed to question Sebastian's state of health.

"Are you not well?"

"I am fine," Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly.

Claude leaned in closer. "Are you on something? Opium? Absinth?"

"I am not!" Sebastian snapped this time.

"Don't give me that look," Claude scolded. "It is pretty obvious you drew that suspicion onto yourself with showing up at the office completely wasted ninety percent of the time."

Sebastian pressed his lips together until they were no more than a thin and stern line. "I'll have you know that I have been sober for…" He frowned and counted the days in his head. "Nearly three days now. This is nothing but withdrawal. Can we go now?" Without awaiting a response he pushed passed his boss and headed towards the front door.

"Withdrawal?" Claude frowned at him from over his shoulder. "Really?"

Sebastian hadn't even heard his boss's silent musing. As he was walking towards the stones steps he started to mentally summon up all the signs of withdrawal he had endured before. His hands were shaking so that was nothing new. His throat was completely dry and repeatedly swallowing seemed to be of no aid like all those other times before. But still; his body was not slowly degenerating. It wasn't shutting down and keeping him from functioning properly until he had his next fix. There were no severe headaches and his skin did not itch. He could not help but wonder why.

When the realization finally dawned on him he came to such an abrupt stop that Claude bumped into him. Could it actually be that his perverted obsession with the Earl had replaced his hunger for opium and alcohol? He cursed inwardly when he caught himself thinking of it as an obsession.

"Something wrong?"

Claude's annoyed voice dragged him back to reality. He shook his head and flashed a dashing smirk over his shoulder.

"Nothing," he lied through his teeth before inhaling deep and holding it for a moment. If he wanted to survive the night, he had to ignore whatever feelings were lurking at the surface and remember that the Earl was, aside from being impossibly irresistible, his suspect above all.

"Then lead the way," Claude gestured to the open door and awaiting butler. "As you already became acquainted with these surroundings," he hissed in his ear. Sebastian looked over his shoulder, eyebrow arched in what could only be an animated manner.

"Does it bother you so that I did not wake you this morning. In my defense; it was for your own good. With the hangover you were nurturing, not to speak of the inevitable blow of humiliation your conscience must've taken after last night when you felt up that-"

"Stop being charming," Claude jammed his elbow into Sebastian's side to shut him up and laughed awkwardly at the passing couple. "Do not test me," he hissed dangerously when the couple had distanced themselves enough not to overhear the threat.

"Naturally," Sebastian produced a perfectly bastard smirk, put his smoke out and walked on. At the door stood Tanaka. They gave each other a nod of acknowledgment before Sebastian handed him his coat and gloves.

"A servant to escort you to the ballroom will be with you momentarily," the old butler informed.

"There will be no need for that," Sebastian raised a hand, palm out, to keep Tanaka from protesting. "We can find our own way, thank you." He beckoned Claude to follow him. Gritting his teeth and swallowing his pride to maintain his sociable mask intact, the chief followed his subordinate without wasting any words about respecting your superior on it.

"Are you still so sure the Earl is our culprit?"

The two men had stopped in the doorway and overlooked the gigantic hall. No money was spared on making the room look like a Christmas spectacle that could've been right out of a Charles Dickens novel. Couples, dressed in their finest clothing, dancing to the sweet melodies produced by a small orchestra in the far right corner. Mistletoe hanging from chandeliers. A fire crackling pleasantly in a marble fireplace. Floral decorations. Candles. And an enormous Christmas tree, the piece the resistance that was like the topping on a delicious dessert.

"Look at this place," Claude whispered on, subtly leaning into his colleague. "The Earl is loaded. Why would he go pillage and plunder, risking to destroy his good name when he already has all of this," the chief gestured around the ballroom. "You might want to really reconsider the sordid accusations you're making against him."

Sebastian had barely been listening. His eyes searched the crowd until he finally located his target. He was standing near the fireplace, talking to no other than the Constable of the Yard himself. He grinned and softly patted Claude on his abdomen with the back of his hand. "You might want to stay away from the Earl's accomplice. Young, blonde and blue eyed. _He's_ a real feisty one," he warned and emphasized the gender to humiliate his boss into silence.

"Keep that outrageous nonsense to yourself Michaelis. We're here to pick up the list, make some modest conversation and then take our leave. Is that clear?" The low hiss was laced with malicious intent.

"Come on Claude. Don't be such a Grinch." Sebastian nudged him with his elbow. "It is a party celebrating one of the most joyous holidays of all. Where is your Christmas spirit?" He asked in a ridiculously gleeful voice.

"I was already aware that you were an idiot so you can stop acting like one," Claude sneered.

Sebastian clacked his tongue and shook his head. "Now that is not nice." He wagged a finger at him. "You best be careful now Claude Faustus. You could still end up on Santa's naughty list," the wagging finger now pointed across the room to an actor who was entertaining the children. "You wouldn't want to be taken to the North Pole now do you?"

"Stop acting so jolly," Claude bumped his shoulder as he walked on. "I'm almost starting to like you better when you're either on opium or alcohol," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that. And might I add that the same goes for you," Sebastian responded in the same gleeful manner. Claude halted, whirled around on his heels and stared resentful at the inspector who returned the scowl with a perfect bastard smirk.

"I had your word on that," the chief hissed dangerously.

"Mhm," Sebastian hummed in an indifferent fashion. "That was the first time. You never mentioned anything about the second time you dropped down on my bed, dead drunk."

"I assumed that was only natural," Claude continued and his eyes shot left and right to make sure nobody was listening in on his humiliating behavior.

"And I assumed you would know that it is only natural I would tease you with it. Consider it a private joke between us," Sebastian said with a simple hand gesture.

"Ok," Claude sighed. His temples were starting to pound painfully and he reached up to massage them in slow rotating moves. "What will it take for you _not_ to mention said private joke anymore?" Sebastian folded his arms and cusped his chin, pretending to think about."

"Humor me and go take a look in the Phantomhive basement later tonight. I am sure you will come to understand my suspicion if you see what I saw this morning."

"Fine," Claude raised his hand. "Anything else?"

Sebastian took his hand and added. "Get off my back a little. Your overbearing interference and lack of trust in my judgment is getting quite obnoxious."

"Agreed," Claude firmly shook his hand and quickly pulled his own back and pushed it in his pants pocket. "Shall we get this over with then?"

"After you," Sebastian gestured across the room and followed his boss without a word.

* * *

Moving through the crowd proved to be very difficult. A lot of the guest recognized the inspector and bombarded him with questions about the investigation. Claude intervened most of the time, settling the nerves of the nobles by assuring them they were on top of it and had very strong leads towards finding the culprit. If his natural gift to solve things in a very diplomatic way had ever been useful to Sebastian now would be the time and he could spare him a honest smile and a sincere thank you every time he hauled his ass out of another wearily interrogation of concerned civilians.

After managing to professional shake off the crowd, the two males found themselves on the other side of the room and in the near presence of the Earl of Phantomhive and the small group of aristocrats that had been found rarefied enough to keep him entertained for the time being. Ciel chortled cordially at some joke but it was quickly droned out when his eyes caught something that was of more interest to him.

"Inspectors," he stepped forward and as if on cue, the group parted in what could only be described as a respectful, maybe even solemn manner.

Sebastian swallowed, almost audibly. Time seemed to slow down with every elegant step Ciel took until it nearly froze in that essential momentum. Every shred of self-confidence fled from his person and was restored with a longing to drag his fingers through the slate tresses of the Earl. His hands itched to tip his head back and brush his lips over that plump mouth before devouring it hungrily. He wanted to plant his digits in the nape of his neck and suck on the skin until he could taste his blood. His mind ran wild with most deviant and immoral ways to feel and taste every bit of the young man and it robbed him of any logic.

"Michaelis?"

A harsh nudge between his ribs dragged him out of his perverted thoughts. Time unfroze and Ciel stood in front of him, an almost concerned frown knitting his brows together.

"Are you alright, inspector Michaelis?" He asked.

Sebastian threw a quick glance sideways. Claude's elbow had painfully awoken him from some sort of trance and he thanked him with a short nod. He turned his attention back to the Earl and produced a very charming smile. "I am well. Thank you for inquiring. I believe you had your list ready?"

"I do. But gentlemen. Let us discuss such wicked topics after the party. Please, have a drink and enjoy yourselves. It is Christmas after all," he said and snapped his fingers at a servant. The blonde scurried over and nodded polite. "Finny. Could you please get these two gentlemen a glass of champagne."

"Right away young master," he disappeared in the crowd and was back within the blink of an eye, handing Claude and Sebastian their champagne in tall crystal glasses.

"You are very warmhearted towards your staff," Claude mentioned. Ciel nodded with a smile and took a small sip of his red wine before answering.

"I find that you achieve much more with leniency over ordering them around like a tyrant. At the end of the day, the entire household is running because they are willing to work for you, and it will run much better if they are motivated to do their jobs well. Moreover, they serve me my food. I like mine served without spittle."

"Very well observed Sir," Claude complimented. "So I can safely taste some of the appetizers tonight?"

"Naturally," a short chortle emitted from Ciel's lips. "Very clever, chief inspector."

"I do what I can, Earl Phantomhive," Claude replied, after which the conversation dried up and both exchanged small polite smiles. Sebastian had missed most of the conversation trying to locate one of the servants. He had jugged back his glass of champagne in order to calm his nerves and was in desperate need of another.

"You are being awfully quiet, inspector Michaelis. Are you looking for something?"

"A servant," he replied without looking Ciel in the eye. He knew himself well and if he would take one more look in those eyes while still being sober, he couldn't be held accounted for the consequences.

"You must've been awfully thirsty," Ciel's eyes darted from Sebastian's face to the glass and back. The inspector still wouldn't look at him and it both intrigued and amused the young Earl. "Let me help you with that." He simply snapped his fingers and as if like magic, Finny emerged next to Ciel in seconds. The sudden appearance set Sebastian's unwitty nerves off.

"Oh that is just damned impossible. Do you have some form of bat hearing or can you just teleport through a room like that?" He snapped. Finny was perplexed and stammered some unintelligible words. Ciel placed a gentle hand on the blonde servant's back and spoke to him in a soothing tone.

"This is inspector Michaelis. He is handling the robbery cases and such an enormous responsibility and burden can work on someone's nerves. Do not worry; he barks louder than he bites. Go get him another glass of champagne."

"Of course, Sir," Finny threw one more unsure look at the impressive inspector before he disappeared into the crowd and returned as swiftly as he had done the last time. Sebastian felt like he should apologize to the quivering blonde but he would rather be rude than acknowledge that the Earl had been right about his unsettled nerves.

"Thank you," was all he said to the servant. Finny smiled timidly and threw a look at the Earl. With a short nod and a calming smile, Ciel gave him permission to leave and he scurried off so fast that it almost looked like he was chased by a herd of angry bison.

"Was that all you had to say to that poor boy?"

Sebastian sighed in his glass when Claude spoke the words that were probably on the minds of all who had witnessed him scolding the servant for no apparent reason. With a scowl on his face, Sebastian lowered his glass and turned to Claude to speak on his own behalf. However, the music slowly started to die down until it stopped entirely and Ciel intervened before Sebastian could erupt and start a heated discussion.

"If you would excuse me, gentlemen. I have an announcement to make," he said politely and took his leave. The departure of the Earl gave Sebastian some of his logic back.

"Look Claude," he began, his hand awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. His boss admonished him to silence with a hand gesture and a low hiss.

"It is even more rude to interrupt an announcement," he lisped and tuned out Sebastian's grunt and the sarcastic roll of his eyes as he focused on the what the Earl was saying. He announced a person, someone that could play the violin so masterfully that it would render him silent at times. _Which is hard to do_. He punned, willingly making himself comic relief.

"So without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to my loyal trustee and dear companion, the Earl of Trancy," he applauded and the room followed soon.

Claude saw the crowd part in the corner of his eye and from it emerged a young man maybe five years his junior. He walked towards Ciel with a determined sturdiness, as if he was aware of how many in the room admired him for that confidence alone. Compared to the faked posh with which the room was filled, his flair and rarefied attitude was almost natural and it even made his simple clothes look like the most elegant wear Claude had ever seen. Forest green trousers tugged into shiny black riding boots. A white dress shirt with the top buttons left undone and a matching green vest. He looked exquisite in his simplicity.

_Look at me_ – thought Claude and as if destined, the pale blue eyes looked directly in his golden ones. He felt a pang in his chest that was so overwhelming that he nearly lost his footing. The icy eyes studied him intently as if he were a subject worth studying. A smile curled the blonde's lips; a wicked one. A knowing one. As if by only looking at him the Earl knew that Claude's entire life was a sham. That his diplomacy and his social skills were a bad infusion of the real him.

He tossed his blonde bangs, uncovering more of his perfectly handsome face. Claude bit on the inside of his cheek and tried to look away. But as if under some strange magic spell his brain refused to tell his eyes to look at something that would cause a counter effect. He tried to think of all the times he had put himself to making love to Hannah. All the times her mother's wobbly arm fat had stroke against his ears while she wrapped herself around him for a too exuberant hug. Nothing seemed to work and his entire being seemed to be regulated by the mysterious Earl of Trancy who had picked up a violin and started to produce a most mesmerizing musical piece.

"He is breathtaking," he stammered to no one in particular.

Sebastian turned to him with a frown. "What did you just say?"

Claude snapped back into the present and cocked his head towards Sebastian. "The music. He plays it breathtakingly," his pale cheeks began to redden as he lied through his teeth.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow and scrutinized him with skepticism. "Sure he does, but if I am not mistaken it was not the music you just called breathtaking."

"I have to go," Claude pushed his glass in Sebastian's hand. "Investigating the basement as I promised," he explained and whirled around on his heels and fled.

Sebastian turned and watch his boss erratically paw his way through the crowd and head for the door. He shook his head with a wicked smirk, poured the remainder of Claude's champagne in his own glass and calmly sipped at it, hoping the alcohol would kick in before Ciel would find his way back to unsettle him.

* * *

Claude leaned breathlessly against a pillar in the hallway. His heart pounded uncontrollably and it felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest. He placed a hand over his chest and tried to catch his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deep. Slowly exhaling, he opened his eyes and told himself to focus on something in the hallway. Anything. As long as it calmed him down.

His eyes fixed on the flames of countless of candles that stood atop an antique side table. The fire wavered calmly on the occasional draft that rushed by. It was soothing and even if it did not make Claude forget about the blonde Earl, it brought his heartbeat down to a more normal rhythm.

"Is something the matter, Sir?" Claude cocked his head. Tanaka stood by his side holding a small silver plate with a glass of water on it. "Have a drink, Sir. You seem like you need it."

"Thank you," he thankfully took the crystal glass and drank they cool water. It was more than refreshing and he drank it down in large gulps. "Thank you very much," he breathed and set the glass down on the plate.

"Not at all, Sir. It is my job to see to the comfort of all the guests. Would you care for another?"

Claude shook his head and reached inside his vest. "But I would like the directions to the basement," he said and showed the old butler his chief badge.

Tanaka nodded short and made a hand gesture. "If you would be so kind to follow me please."

* * *

"Has your company abandoned you?"

Sebastian recognized the person without turning. The husky tone could only belong to Ciel. During Alois's performance he had managed to drink at least three more glasses of any kind of alcohol he could get his hands on and without the usual mix with opium the liquor had a surprisingly calming effect on him. He whirled around with as much grace as he could manage in his current stage.

"He had some urgent business he had to attend to," he answered and flashed the Earl a casual smile.

Ciel studied him with suspicion. "Might I be so bold to ask what kind of business."

Sebastian perched his lips and pretended to think. "You may. Just like I may decide if I feel inclined to answer that question or not. And if you are guessing," he leaned in until his lips nearly touched Ciel's ear. "I do not feel so inclined," he whispered in his honey-like voice.

"How very dauntless of you," Ciel stepped back with an amused smirk. "However. I am not so sure if I appreciate people from the Yard wandering about my home without my permission."

Stoic mask intact, Sebastian folded his arms over his chest. "Word travels fast in these regions. This is an ongoing investigation. As a victim of such a malevolent crime I only assumed you would cooperate completely."

Ciel chortled short. "You are very smart, inspector. I have to give you that. Although, even if I am more than willing to cooperate and help you in whatever way needed for you to catch the culprit, a polite inquiry would have been very much appreciated."

"By all means, Earl Phantomhive, but if I remember correctly is was you who said that we should discuss such wicked topics after the party," Sebastian reminded him. Rendered silent for only a moment, Ciel quickly adjusted himself and displayed the most charming smile he could summon.

"How very tedious of you. I have not been giving you enough credit for originality, inspector Michaelis. It is both obnoxious and intriguing. You fascinate me immensely and at times I wonder what could've happened had we not met due to such unfortunate events."

Sebastian swallowed. His lower region was jerking him into complying and admitting that he wonders about that too. "Well," he began and took a sip of wine for logic. "I guess we will never know, will we?" He shrugged, nonchalance in the entire gesture.

"Such a politically correct answer," Ciel mused while stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. "While I had hoped you would say something a little less ethical."

The inspector raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Might I ask what this little less ethical reaction should've been?"

"You may," Ciel came closer and leaned in, making Sebastian shiver in anticipation. "But it just so happens that I do not feel inclined to share that kind of information with you, Sebastian."

Sebastian chortled and slowly shook his head. "I should've seen that coming. Touché, Ciel."

"Indeed. See you around, Sebastian," he said and blew teasingly in the inspector's ear before disappearing in the crowd to mingle. Sebastian inhaled deep, mentally patted himself on the shoulder for not giving into desire and went to get himself another drink to lull the roaring animal inside him to sleep.

* * *

Tanaka had shown Claude to the servants quarters where the chief inspector had asked him to leave him alone. The idea of Michaelis was beyond reasoning alone but skulking about the mansion like some thief was against every ethical oath he ever took. Not to mention his personal morals and objections.

He had stepped into the kitchen and complimented the chef on his tasteful appetizers. The tall and surprisingly attractive man growled some words back in an accent he could only define as German or some other Germanic language. He dawdled around the kitchen, intending to stay there for the appropriate amount of time before he would return to the ballroom and tell Sebastian his own conclusion. Soon he realized that his inspector was smarter than that and that he would certainly ask him about specific details that he on his turn could not define or explain. He paid the chef, who had introduced himself as Diedrich, a short goodbye and stepped out.

Now his eyes focused on the door that lay ahead of him. It was heavy and in contrast to rest of the mansion, looked old and beaten. He inhaled deep, told himself to man up and took determined steps forward. The light flickered briefly and he could've sworn he saw shadows moving.

"Pull yourself together Faustus," he lectured himself solemnly. "Shadows do not move on their own."

He remembered how Sebastian had told him about the penetrating odor of onions and he instantly got a whiff of them through the closed door. It was near to impossible and he inhaled deep, trying to take control of his own mind again and not letting it play foul tricks on him anymore as he walked down the corridor.

"You're a policemen with the Yard and you have every right to search a home if it helps with an ongoing investigation. Recovering evidence is what we do, regardless of how it was recovered," he whispered to justify his actions to himself. Afterwards, he nodded and exhaled. "Here we go." He stepped forward and closed his hand around the cool silver doorknob.

A clear of the throat made him stop dead in his track and Claude threw a look over his shoulder. The blonde beau that had stunned him into silence with both appearance and violin play stood behind him. With his arms casually folded and a calm scowl on his face, he looked even more handsome in the dim light of the servants quarters.

"Looking for some kind of evidence in particular?"

Claude let go of the doorknob and fully turned towards the blonde. "Nothing that I cannot find on my own, but thank you for inquiring."

The Earl arched a suspicious eyebrow. "Who exactly are you and who gave you permission to be here?"

"I need not permission. I am Chief inspector Claude Faustus." As a matter of habit, he drew his badge with information. "I am helping my subordinate with the investigation of the burglaries."

"And a Christmas party seemed like the right time to proceed that investigation and search a home without clearing it with the owner? Might I ask who this supposed subordinate of yours might be?"

"Inspector Sebastian Michaelis. He was here earlier today so I assume you have met him. He asked me to have a look at the basement myself."

If the blonde had not already been suspicious, the look that he gave Claude after hearing that name could only be described as incredulity. It seemed like the blonde didn't believe a word he was saying. However, he stepped forward, politely asked Claude to move aside and retrieved a key from his pants pocket.

"I assume that unlocking it will help you with your investigation," he jammed the rusty key into the lock and turned it. It clicked and the hinges creaked when he pushed the door open.

"Indubitably," Claude confessed with a sly smirk.

"I shall give you a tour than," he safely put the key back into his pocket and switched on the light. "I should warn you that it is pretty dark down there during the night," he said and started to descend down the steep steps.

"No worries," Claude licked his lips automatically, his eyes glued to the back of the young man that was leading him down to unknown grounds. Who knew what was at the bottom of those steps. What was lurking in the dark. For all he knew it could be a trap and all that awaited him was a certain death. Strangely enough, Claude found that he did not care. "In my line of work, I am used to _certain_ things," he replied and followed the male without another word.

The blonde had not exaggerated when he said it was dark in the basement. Aside from the little light that came from the bulb next to the door, it was nearly pitch black at the bottom. Claude heard the Earl grope his way around some shelf and moments later, the sound of a match scraping across the brick wall echoed eerily through the cold room.

"There," the blonde lit a candle, making the soft features of his face stand out in the never ending darkness. "That's better," he said and put out the match. "Well, this is it," he slowly moved the candle left and right, casting light on things one would normally find in a basement. Boxes, crates and empty bottles. There was the chop board Sebastian had mentioned but there were no traces of freshly chopped onions. Even the air only carried the musty scent of mold and did not hurt his eyes like the inspector had described.

"There," Claude cleared his throat and walked to the table with the chop board. "Inspector Michaelis said there were chopped onions here."

"I guess the cook used them," the blonde shrugged. "Which is a fairly normal thing to do with chopped onions," he pointed out with a certain air.

"I suppose," Claude admitted and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. It was only than that he remembered that Sebastian had told him about a locked off wine cellar. "What about the cellar?"

"What about it?"

"Could I have a look inside?"

The blonde titled his head back imperceptibly and gazed at him through his lashes. "There is nothing to see in the wine cellar," he finally concluded and walked to the stairs. "This is the end of the tour."

Claude felt his hopes fade rapidly. This might be his only shot he had at being alone with the impressive young Earl. "What is your name," he called as he spun around on his heels. The blonde stopped climbing the steps and gazed over his shoulder.

"What is it to you?"

He had to think fast. Telling him that he needed to know who he would be fantasizing about at night would never be an option so he had to lie to get himself out of the what was becoming a painfully embarrassing situation.

"When I write me case report, I need to know the name of the man who refused to give an official entrance to a closed of room. A room that might be essential for an ongoing investigation. I hope you do realize that obstructing justice could have severe consequences."

The blonde stared at him. Motionless. The candle flickered in the draft that blew in through the door and it cast shadows over the Earl's handsome face. Gradually, his lips slowly turned into a mischievous smirk and he turned himself to the chief inspector.

"Aren't you the audacious commoner? You're smart. And cunning. Qualities I find very alluring."

"Your name please," Claude answered in an authoritative manner. He felt that the balance had shifted a little now that he gained the interest of the Earl. The confidence he had been lacking so far started to come back.

"Alright," the blonde descended down the stairs and walked over until they stood toe to toe. "I will show you the wine cellar," he whispered against the chief inspector's lips. Claude tried to be unmoved but he was more than glad that the Earl turned on his heels and headed towards the closed door.

He unlocked the cellar door with the same key and the scent of ripening fruits and cherry wood filled the damp basement. "Are you coming?" The Earl jerked his head and stepped inside. Claude swallowed audibly. His increasing heartbeat whirred in his ears and all his limbs felt heavy. The alluring voice called out to him again and a finger beckoned him to give in to the immoral images that scared him more than anything. He was aware that once he took a step forward, there was no turning back. Logic and longing argued in his mind and it was his body, or better said a particular area of his lower region, that settled the battle and he walked into the dark cellar with secret expectations.

The blonde smirked handsomely. "There you are finally," he said and gestured around the room. "See anything that might be suspicious?"

Claude let his eyes wander and all that came to mind was the sinking realization that he could care less about the wine cellar or the investigation. Disregarding subtly and formalities, his eyes landed on the blonde and stayed there, staring into the pale eyes that gazed right back at him.

"My name is Alois."

It was all he said before he leaped forward and brought his lips up to Claude's and kissed him cravingly. Secret expectations became reality and Claude let himself get shoved into a wall. He let Alois undo his suit jacket and vest and put up no protest when the nimble fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt. He groaned more than satisfied when the blonde nibbled at his bottom lip and sank his teeth in the soft flesh and tugged at it.

"Are you going to write this in your case report as well, Chief inspector Claude Faustus?"

Alois breathed the teasing words into his ear and dragged his tongue along the soft tissue of the outer shell. Claude groaned when his name was whispered in a manner that he had never heard before. It was arousing and his tone of voice was filled with sinful promises.

"Don't talk," he growled and turned Alois's head towards him to devour his lips. He let his tongue explore the hot mouth and he brushed it skilfully against the Earl's. He dragged his fingers through the blonde locks and grabbed a handful and the back of Alois's neck, forcing his head back.

"Do you always conduct your investigations in this fashion?" Alois smirked cockily at his own wittiness. Claude tilted his head and his glasses glazed over in the light of the candle.

"Do you always do the opposite of what you are told?" He retorted back in the same smug manner.

"Arrogance," Alois clacked his tongue. "Not a quality I think highly off, even if it is one I can relate to very well."

"I said no talking," Claude snarled and forced the Earl to his knees. "If you cannot do as you are told I am bound to resort to other means to shut you up," he said while rubbing his erection against Alois's cheek.

"Are you?" The blonde tossed his head back and delight shimmered in his eyes. "What is stopping you?" He asked and rendered Claude into silence by dragging his tongue along the clad bulge. It was the reaction Alois had counted on and he raised his hands to meticulously unbutton the pants.

Claude watched breathlessly as the Earl yanked the piece of clothing down. They slumped at his feet. It would indubitably cause the neat fabric to crease which would normally set him off. Now he could care less about what he looked like and scrutinized the blonde who seemed to making an extensive study of his vast cock.

"You're big," Alois pointed out the obvious. "I wonder…" but without bothering to finish his sentence he perked up on his knees and took the erection into his mouth.

"Fuck," Claude closed his eyes and sucked air through his teeth. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_," he cursed on and dropped his chin to his chest to see Alois swallow the entire length of his cock.

The blonde gradually bobbed up and down, his eyes not losing sight of Claude's and enjoying the effects his mouth seemed to have on the stiff chief inspector. The cock jerked wildly between his lips and to extent their pleasure, he pulled it out of his mouth, making a hard sloppy pop that echoed through the cellar.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Claude snarled aggressively and he persistently tried to get Alois to take the erection into his mouth again.

"Patience," the blonde told him amused and he stopped the inspector's attempts by jerking him off at an irregular pace.

Claude leaned heavy against the wall, his breath as irregular as Alois's moves and his eyes rolling around in their sockets. He groaned hard when the wet mouth closed around his cock again and he automatically pumped into it. Again, he cursed out loud when the blonde refused him his orgasm but ceased his protest when Alois started to undo his own pants.

"What are you?" He failed to finish his sentence when the Earl pressed a finger to his lips and hushed him with a low shushing noise.

"Enjoy it while you can," Alois whispered against his lips and licked them provokingly, pulling away before Claude could capture his mouth for another heated kiss. Claude watched him kick of his boots and disregard his pants. Alois slipped the vest off his shoulder and unbuttoned his shirt entirely. "Take it all in," he told him. And he did. The glorious splendor of the males naked body in the soft candle light. The slender figure. The long and toned muscles. It was all chiseled to perfection and it drove him wild with desire.

"Fuck me," the blonde commanded and turned. Claude gasped for air when Alois bend over and spread the fleshy cheeks of his ass.

Following the Earl, he also took his shoes off and stepped out of his pants. A bit unsure of himself, Claude stepped forward and reached out. His hands wavered, but only for a second. Alois breathed in when he felt the strong hands spread him even further.

"What are you waiting for?" He snarled over his shoulder. Claude now displayed a more confident smirk and licked his fingers.

"Patience is a virtue," he told him and surprised the blonde by shoving two fingers inside him. Alois cried out at the abruptness of the move but soon eased into it and groaned for him to go faster.

Claude complied, but only after he made the blonde beg a little more. He slammed his fingers in and out, every now and then getting cursed at when he pulled them out to lubricate them with his saliva. The muscles inside Alois clamped down on his fingers and when he hit a certain spot, the blonde swore in pleasure and trembled in pure gratificatiom.

"Right there," Alois moaned and turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Hit that spot again," he begged with both his voice and eyes. Claude smirked smug, pulled his fingers out and positioned the head of his dick against the now puckered hole.

"I'll try," he said and pushed his cock inside. Alois cried out, his hands reaching for the nearest wine rack. He dug his nails into the wood and gritted his teeth. Even with his body refusing the foreign intrusion, Claude refused to stop pushing until his cock was full embedded inside the Earl's ass. When it was, he paused to give the blonde's frail body time to adjust.

"You rotten sadist," Alois hissed over his shoulder. Claude paid no attention to it and only told him to brace himself. He pulled back as calmly as possible but with all kinds of unfamiliar feelings of lust, it was hard for him to keep to the tempo that seemed to stream with the Earl.

"Is that all you got?" Alois provoked while looking over his shoulder. Claude sucked air into his lungs and started to move faster. He picked up his tempo so fast that he soon slammed in an out of the Earl's ass so hard that the bottles of wine rattled in the rack Alois's used to support himself.

"Come here," he wrapped an arm around Alois's body and pulled him up until the blonde's back aligned with his chest. He reached around and squeezed Alois's erection hard before jerking it. He sank his teeth into the flesh of blonde's shoulder and bit down hard. He sucked on the skin of his neck until he tasted blood. He pounded in and out of him so hard that the sound of flesh colliding vibrated through the room.

"_Fuck_," Alois groaned hard. He gasped for air. He moved his body into Claude's movements. He clawed and the back of the inspector's neck until he felt that his nails tore the flesh apart. He begged for the first time in his life. He pleaded for Claude to slam into him. To pound him. To make him come.

"As you wish," the chief inspector wheezed in his ear and with a few more strong jerks, Alois came, spurting his semen over the expensive wine bottles. The feeling of the ample cock twitching and palpitating in his hand and the warm sperm trickling down his fingers made Claude tumble over his politically correct and sociably accepted edge and he came as well, spilling him cum into Alois's ass while still pounding into him in a decreasing fashion.

* * *

As they were both trying to catch their breaths, Claude was overcome with an uncomfortable question. It almost made him regret all his previous actions and it made the feeling of his own sperm trickling down his shaft seem like an unbearable sin.

"Why?" He breathed into Alois's ear.

"You looked so emotionally constipated. It seemed like you needed it," Alois retorted smartly.

"Don't be an ass," Claude responded.

"You're in my ass," Alois shot back.

"Give me a real answer. Please."

"Why? So you can justify what just happened? So you can make sense of it and brush it off before going back to that sociably accepted shell you were before?" Alois confronted him blatantly.

"How did you…" Claude stammered and blinked surprised at the blonde's profile.

"Please," Alois scowled and stepped away. Claude's nearly flaccid cock slipped out of the warm ass and he was overcome with a feeling of remorse for even questioning the situation. The blonde had begun to pick up his clothing and now turned to the inspector again. "You are not very hard to read Claude Faustus. You hide your true self as a form of protection because you assume the person you think everybody expects you to be. And don't bother asking me how I know because I have been there. I was in your shoes and no matter how hard I tried, they did not fit me."

"Are you going to use this against me?" The minute the question left Claude's lips he regretted it. Alois tilted his head back and his icy eyes were filled with an emotion Claude could not really define.

"Of course not. I stand to gain literally nothing from it. I am going to pity you though. You and your cowardliness. Your lack of backbone and your pitiful search to be accepted for what you pretend to be and not for who you really are."

Claude molded the words over for some time. "We probably should get dressed," was the only reply he could think off.

"You probably should," a third voice answered him.

Claude whipped around to the door and was horrified to find both Sebastian and the Earl of Phantomhive standing there. Alois was less impressed and lazily started to dress himself. "Enjoyed the show?" Was all the blonde inquired.

"Enjoy might be a bit of an overstatement," Ciel replied calmly as he walked into the cellar and bend down to pick up Claude's clothing. "Here you go," he said with a cordial smile as he handed the ashamed inspector his belongings.

"Thank you," he replied, trying to keep his voice from breaking. If he could've imploded with embarrassment, he would've liked nothing more, but he tried to approach the situation with the same lax attitude that Alois had taken.

He slipped his pants on, neatly tugged his shirt in and buttoned it up. He adjusted his vest and suit jacket and stepped into his shoes. As casually as he could manage, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat.

"It was a pleasure," he mentioned in general.

"I sure hope it was," Ciel replied amused. "I don't think poor Alois could take it if it wasn't."

"We must take our leave. Thank you for opening up your home to us Earl Phantomhive," Claude said and to hide his reddening cheeks, he hurried past both the Ciel and Sebastian and ran up the stairs.

"I should get going," Sebastian announced superfluous and nodded. "Gentlemen," he said and headed into the same direction as his boss.

Left alone in the cellar, Ciel turned to Alois. The blonde lazily adjusted his vest and shoved his feet into the riding boots. When their eyes finally met, Ciel had already arched an eyebrow at him.

"Busting my ass while screwing the chief inspector yourself. Was that really necessary?"

"Guess I had a bad desire," Alois shrugged nonchalant and walked towards the door. "Also. I somehow had to distract him from searching the cellar. You might want to have the servants clean that up," he pointed to the wine rack he had leaned against and disappeared before Ciel could snap at him for spilling sperm all over his expensive wine.

Ciel cast a last glance around the cellar. Even if he was boiling with anger towards Alois, he could only be thankful to him that he had kept the chief from investigating the entire cellar. However, he did curse one last time over the white spunk before closing the door and locking it, hiding their well-kept secret among his wooden wine cabinets.

* * *

So.. did I deliver? I am trying to keep as close to the original story with both Sebastian and Claude being obsessed with the Earl's instead of the other way around. Basically, if you think about it, Sebastian and Claude are obsessed with those two one way or another in both the manga and anime and I have found not that many stories that kept the order of obsession intact and as perverted as it is in the original story. Respectfully, I have not read every story on this website but from what I've read I can say that it is rare to find this. (Does not necessarily mean it makes it better)

I am also required to mention that this story will not be much longer. I am getting fed up with my own mood when I feel that I do not receive enough reviews, which I completely understand now that I do not update that regularly anymore, but to save you all an drunken rant in which I beg for reviews and threaten not to update until I have received such and to also spare me said drunken rant, I will finish this story in possible 3 to 5 chapters.

Thank you for reading and I hope you will take the time to leave a review with your opinion on this chapter. (And the previous if you have not read/reviewed it)

_**Note: more smut to follow in the upcoming chapter so stay tuned for some Sebastian on Ciel action!**_


	12. File 12

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

Good morning/afternoon/evening my dear readers. Some tiny pointers before you can continue. One; I have not proof read this, but it is terribly late over here. I apologize for any grammatical mistakes and faux pas beforehand and promise to get to it first thing tomorrow.

Second; Claude's downfall. Be easy on the man; he's my world.

Enjoy!

O.

* * *

Claude was not a man to sneak around. He had no reason to. He was a proud and upstanding citizen of London. He was Chief inspector at the Yard. Everywhere he went he was respected and looked up to. His boundless efforts were greatly appreciated and praised. His reputation was spread and glorified. His name had been squeaky clean up till that one faithful Christmas evening. He had slipped. He made the grandest faux pas any man could make in his lifetime. He had blatantly ignored all the strict rules he lived _and_ survived by and he had given into temptation; completely.

He had deliberately, moreover, willingly put his good name and reputation in jeopardy. And he had enjoyed every second of it. Now his walls of shame threatened to outgrow him. This kind of self-indulging behavior would mean the end of a charade he had carefully created and had maintained intact for decades. If word spread of the depraved activities that had taken place in the Phantomhive wine cellar, it could possibly destroy the career he aspired.

Even with all the wrong-doing, something had felt so completely right; even if the blonde had expressed a crude sympathy for Claude's situation after. He had wanted it. He still breathed it. The blasphemous memory screwed with his mind. It threatened to rob him of a connection with reality. It blew a hole into his mental fences and let a deep longing ooze in. It caused an epic battle of two powerful forces. A mind game with his own sanity at stake. He had satisfied a respected Earl. He, by-the-book and prudish Claude Faustus had fucked a male without considering the consequences of his actions first. To boot, he had completely and selfishly sated his own lingering desire.

He had relived the moments. His hands had itched and his teeth had gritted. He had always been living to fight his emotions. And now that he had savagely given into them, he need even more. For a split moment, his consciousness had lost the battle and his irrational unconsciousness had given him way to do as he pleased, leaving him to deal with the consequences at his own terms. Now the crucial question remained; could he deal with them?

The entire carriage ride home, Sebastian had respectfully ignored the subject. Claude couldn't care if it was really out of respect or denial. Perhaps the idea of having to accept that his boss was an organism that could have sex was one that repulsed him to the core. It was a stupid thought, especially after Sebastian had been there at the rare moments Claude explicitly displayed and exploited his attraction to the male gender. No matter his motivations, the inspector showed character with his altruistic behavior. He did not turn his boss's faux pas into a running mockery nor did he pursue to use this to his own advantage. He only displayed genuine interest in Claude's findings and disputed them with his own.

Now, after he had soundlessly opened the front door of his perfect white townhouse, he caught himself skulking through the shadows of the hallway like a common thief. As if he had just committed a hefty crime and was trying to get away with it without getting caught. Ironically, it felt like a crime, but he wasn't so sure if he wanted to get away with it.

He reached his office on the first floor without running into Hannah. Even if he assumed she was asleep, he did not let his guard down and tried to open the door as soundlessly as possible. He suppressed a groan when even despite his effort, the old hinges produced the usual shrill squeak nonetheless.

"It would really be a waste of time to try and burglarize this house. All the doors make the sound the creaking bones of an old bitty make when she is trying to stand up."

Claude stood still in the door opening. Hannah had her back turned to him. Her slender hand touched a silver picture framing. Its style was Baroque. Something a man should not know nor be interested in. Claude cared a great deal about appearance and how to make it look impeccable.

"You handpicked this frame," Hannah said. A mysterious smile followed instantly. One that left room for interpretation but was defined enough to decipher. "It is a beautiful frame. So delicate. So detailed."

"We bought it together at that auction in Plymouth," Claude recalled. "The previous owner told us it would bring us good luck in our future."

"Goes to show that the phrase the blind leading the blind is more than true. It didn't seem to have brought them a damn thing. They had to sell all their belongings in order to eat. We were just as gullible as she was. Young and naive."

Claude felt the climate in the room change. A tension started to form between them different from the usual one. The air was filled with unspoken words. Conversations they should've had a long time ago but both seemed to willingly ignore. With the hostile attitude and determined voice, Hannah now seemed to want to go through all of them in one go.

"We are both adults. In the interest of clarity, spare me the not-so subtle metaphors and get to the point. Please," Claude added as a matter of form.

Hannah fully turned to him. Her pretty face was an emotionless mask. A long silence followed. One filled with unanswered questions and twisted truths about to be exposed. Hannah wrapped her arms around her frail body and shivered; as if a sudden, non-existing draft rushed by.

"Love is such a peculiar and funny little thing. It'll make you see things so clearly but makes you turn a blind eye to it. You will know the inevitable truth but you're strong enough to ignore it."

Her voice was monotone. There was no passion to find solutions. No desire to salvage any damages. It was all but a figment of the woman that would normally already have been demanding an explanation why he had skipped the annual Christmas dinner with their parents. Her indifference was almost refreshing but alarming more so. Claude cleared his throat.

"Where are you going with this Hannah?"

The question sounded like he was suspicious. Like he was already plotting to accuse her or deny anything that would come out of her mouth. Hannah reached up and pushed a stubborn lock back into her neat bun. For a second, she giggled in a girlish manner and smoothed her dress with her hands. "How do I look?"

Claude's golden eyes scanned her petite figure, captured in a sleeveless dress that snugly hugged her spectacular figure. It was champagne colored, showed the perfect amount of cleavage and was decorated with sequins. She had indubitably wore her white fur coat and lace gloves with it. It was the perfect outfit and made her look gorgeous. It made him wish he could love her in a more meaningful way.

"You look breathtakingly stunning," he told her in all honesty.

Hannah breathed a smile and nodded absentmindedly. "Of course I do. You chose this dress for me. In fact, when I really think about it, every classy or fashionable thing in my life was chosen by you. Clothing. Shoes. Jewelry. Furniture. How to behave like an upstanding citizen who knows when to be witty and when to keep my mouth shut. Everything is singlehandedly designed by you to make our lives look like a perfect picture of a modern London couple."

"You're hardly making sense," Claude pointed out with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "Is it possible to skip to the end of this disjointed conversation because it seems like utter gibberish to me. Have you been drinking?"

Hannah ignored his question and continued as if he had not interrupted her. "What constitutes love for you? I thought that I could make do with liabilities alone. With your loyalty and scintillating personality. But no," she shook her head and choked back a sob. "I have to get in line with the reality of the situation."

"Hannah," Claude's voice was authoritative and leading. "Get to your point."

"I cannot close my eyes to it any longer. Even if I wish it were different. I have enough interested parties who would worship the ground I walk on. You," he looked up at him in an accusing manner. "You're not even bothering to come up with new excuses to blow me off."

Claude knitted his brows together. "Alright. I understand that you're upset I couldn't attend the annual Christmas dinner. It is just that this case demands all my attention and-"

"No!" Hannah cried. "No more excuses. I'm tired of your flaky behavior. Your halfhearted manners to hide undeniable facts. A truth we both have known all along but have willingly neglected for the sake of status. I know your actual truth and I can no longer play a part in it."

Claude watched her take off the engagement ring he had given her half a year ago. She put it down on a corner of his desk. It lay between them, like a symbol of moral relativism, mockingly defining the sham that had been their entire relationship. It had become the proverbial tree in the forest. As if their time together had not existed except for the ones who had been around to catch it.

"What truth might that be?"

Like hers, Claude's face was a stoic mask, even if all his alarm bells went off. He did not know how much she knew and he was more than ready to deny anything. He would not admit to anything, by thus incriminating himself, before he knew what she meant.

"That I know I have loved you; always. Just as I have always known you could never love me like that. That it is not about what I have but what I _don't_ have," she bit her lip and lingered for a second. "That I'm not male," she said and looked up at him from below.

Claude started to panic behind his intelligible mask. He felt sweat drops trickle down his right temple. The air in the room became suffocating and no matter how much he swallowed, his throat was completely dry. He staggered to the window and threw it open. A biting cold wind blew in and whipped at his burning cheeks. He loosened his tie and the top buttons of his shirt. He was hot, even if cold sweat ran down his back in steady streams.

"Claude?"

Her voice had always been a reassuring rock in his turbulent sea. It had been the way he could maintain his social and professional curve. It was in direct proportion to how he wanted the world to see him. His quantum engagement. An unwritten understanding that protected his true nature and made it able to live a lie and be with a woman he could tolerate enough to marry.

"Claude?"

He couldn't breathe. He desperately gasped for air. His lungs spasmed painfully in his chest. Hannah placed a delicate hand on his shoulder and rubbed invisible circles on his back, trying to soothe him.

"Just breathe Claude," she whispered. "Take a deep one in and slowly let it out."

He listened. Closely. Her words gradually guided him through his panic attack. His muscles started to relax. His hands unclutched the windowsill and now only rested on the cold wood. He hunched over, too ashamed to look her in the eye.

"What makes you say such outraged things?"

Hannah chuckled in a skeptical manner. "Please. If that episode of just now wasn't already prove enough, your impeccable fashion sense and disinterest in me would've made the inevitable conclusion."

Claude inhaled the crisp winter air and held it for a second. He tilted his head back and looked over the rooftops of the houses across of his. It was peaceful. London was asleep or celebrating Christmas in a jolly drunk haze. He cursed inwardly that this moment would define all the Christmases to come.

"Will you tell on me?"

It was his main concern. His status. His political liability that he was a man of his word and not some pervert who skulked about and fucked young men in the shelter a fancy wine cellar or a dark back alley.

He turned to her. His spectacles glazed over in the light of the chandelier, hiding the look of shame that reflected in his eyes. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, but-"

Hannah raised her hand, palm out, to keep him from speaking. "Even if the knowledge that you could never feel for me as I do for you, and the idea of revenge seems ever so sweet; I shan't blemish your good name." She folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head a little. Her indigo eyes squinted and studied him. "You're a good man, Claude. And I know that you tried. But I have to start thinking about myself and my future. I want children. Eventually. When I am ready to give up this stunning figure."

Claude tried to smile, even if there was nothing to smile about. He had wanted children too but he now made his bed, and his feelings finally forced him to lie in it. He took a step towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently. "You're a very fine woman, Hannah. And you deserve someone who treats you like one out of love, not out of alternate motives."

"I know that." She sighed and dropped her chin to her chest for a second. Tilting her head back, her eyes were glazed over with tears. She reached up and cupped his cheek. "That person is a very lucky man," she told him solemnly and dropped her hand. "I will stay at my parents until I find another place to live," and with one more look and a short nod, she turned on her heels and headed towards the door.

"Will you be alright?" Claude hesitated and noticed he bit his lip nervously. He had never felt more ashamed of his sexual preference as he did now. "I mean… Hell I don't know what I mean," he awkwardly dragged a hand through his tresses.

Hannah held her chin up high and winked saucy. "Look at me. I'm dashing. Quite the catch if I might say so. I will find another man in no time."

Claude confirmed her answer with a nod after which they stared at each other for some moments. There was nothing between them anymore. In fact, there had never been anything between them but the awkward silence made them painfully aware of that for the first time. Every tick of the grandfather clock in the back sounded like a roaring thunder. The pleasantly crackling firewood like nails on a chalkboard. The silence between them deafening. It was there final goodbye. There was nothing left to say that hadn't been said before. Claude cleared his throat. The sound hurt his by now pounding head.

"Can we be friends?"

"No," Hannah shook her head. "I don't think that would be very appropriate given the situation."

"Right," Claude licked his lips and nodded slowly. "You are right."

"And I think you can understand that I will quit my job. A lady who can hold her own keep is not considered a good match."

"Of course," Claude agreed.

"And I will keep all the clothing you gave me," she added. "I suppose you wouldn't have a purpose for them after me anyway," she couldn't help but giggle a little. It made Claude smile.

"Naturally. That seems only fair enough," he said while sticking his hands in his pants pockets. With certain formalities out of the way, silence followed. Both seemed keen to get away from the situation that left them strangers to each other but neither knew the correct protocol for ending it.

"I will go pack my bags," Hannah finally concluded.

"I'll arrange for a carriage to take you to your parents," Claude offered and followed his ex-fiancé out the office. As expected off him, he carried her bags to the carriage and helped her climb inside. Hannah smiled at it and called him a real gentleman. Claude replied it was more than natural, even if nothing about that moment seemed natural. After a false promise they would speak to each other soon, he watched the carriage carry off Hannah; the woman who had loved and adored him despite all his flaws and the only female he could have ever imagined loving back.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sebastian had come to the bothersome realization that the entire evening had been fruitless. He had not even taken his coat off when he remembered that in Claude's hurry to leave the party, he had completely forgotten about the list. The effort to maintain his professionalism around Ciel. The sight of Claude with his trousers around his ankles and the naked Earl of Trancy. All had been nothing but a glorious waste of his time.

"Bloody brilliant," he groaned wearily. Buttoning up his jacket, he walked to the door. He best get it over with while the alcohol still held his mind in slight blissfully ignorance. He snatched his key of the small cooker and stepped out, closing the door and sticking the key in the lock.

"Going out, inspector?"

Sebastian's body jolted involuntarily and he cocked his head. His brows shut up in surprise. Ciel stood at the top of the stairs with an apologetic smile on his face.

"I apologize. I did not meant to startle you."

The inspector turned fully and leaned casually against his front door. "Good evening. Surprise running into you here," he said with a lopsided smirk.

"Not really." Ciel calmly walked up to him, the tip of his cane ticking on the old wooden floor every other step. The sound echoed loudly through the empty hallway. "You live here. It would've been nearly inevitable to _not_ run into you here," the Earl pointed out cockily.

Sebastian folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head back a little, trying to react in the same arrogant manner that seemed to come natural to Ciel. "Which leaves me with two questions. What are you doing and how do you know where I live?"

Ciel grinned. Charisma dripped off him and made him confident and highly irresistible. It made it hard for Sebastian to think straight. "Learning an address is not hard when you have the proper contacts. And before you can make such an assumption, I got it through legal ways-"

"You paid someone over threatening them?" Sebastian interrupted him.

Ciel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a tired sigh. "Always so suspicious and assuming the worst. You must have a very bleak look on life."

"On the contrary. I enjoy life to its fullest. But I have seen the worst in humans. I only advocate such a hostile attitude with a certain type of people, Earl Phantomhive," Sebastian replied. He felt surprisingly calm and suspected that being at his own territory gave him an advantage of setting for once. Either that or the ratio of alcohol that coursed through his body hadn't changed a lot yet.

Ciel let another sigh roll over his tongue and he rubbed his temple in a soothing manner. "It is late. So even if I normally enjoy our little games, I am too exhausted to keep up my usual rarefied mystery. I asked Constable Grey for you address. Satisfied?"

Sebastian pretended to think about it for a split second and gave him a short nod. "For once I find your explanation fairly plausible. You should start telling the truth more often."

Ciel barked a laugh. "Persistent. One of your many qualities I can appreciate to its fullest. But to move this conversation along, here," he reached into his coat and handed Sebastian a sealed off envelope. "You left the party in such a hurry that you forgot this."

Sebastian accepted the envelope with a solemn nod. He shivered imperceptibly when his fingertips touched Ciel's. "I was on my way back to come and pick it up," he confessed to the Earl.

"Great mind think alike," Ciel smiled. "Such a fools seldom differ."

"I wonder," Sebastian squinted. "Which of those two would you represent? A noble of your social standard should know better than to walk out on their own party. It is incredibly rude."

"Ah," Ciel leaned heavy on his cane. "If I know anything of the amoral, jaded and bored upper class of London is that most of them are too drunk by now to notice my absence. Should they be asked about it in the future, neither of them would deny my presences. They cannot stand to risk their reputation by not remembering if I was there or not. That would make quite a scandal."

Sebastian snorted and rolled his eyes. "Are you ever aware of your delusion of grandeur?"

Ciel chortled coolly. "I notice my presence is not wanted here. I hope that the list will aid you in your investigation. I bid you a good night, and a merry Christmas."

Sebastian gritted his teeth. If there would ever be an opportune chance to be alone with Ciel it would be now. Instead, he chased him off with his own jaded complex to proof to him that he left him cold and indifferent.

"Ciel?"

The Earl turned on the top of the stairs. Sebastian breathed out and unlocked his door. "You came all this way," he threw the door open and gestured inside. "The least I can do is invite you in for a drink. While insulting your manners, I forgot my own."

Ciel tilted his head as if overthinking the proposal. Then he leaped forward and retrieved a bottle of wine from his coat. "Good," he pushed it in Sebastian's stomach. "Means I did not drag this around for nothing. Where's your corkscrew?"

"Come on right in," Sebastian said with faked annoyance and threw the door shut behind him.

* * *

Ciel gazed around the small living- and bedroom and Sebastian noticed how horribly out of place the cultivated young male looked and how his splendor stood out against his shabby surroundings.

"This is a poorly shaped establishment," Ciel said when his eyes met Sebastian's. "I did not know Scotland Yard paid that bad."

Sebastian took the three steps to his tiny kitchen and opened a drawer. "Most people weren't born into fortune. Nor do they find themselves privileged enough to grand themselves the right to get it through crime."

Ciel waved his regular accusations away. Unbuttoning his coat, he took four steps forward and gently touched the strings of an old cello that stood by the window. "You play?"

"I used to," Sebastian effortlessly uncorked the bottle and held it under his nose. The aroma was rich and young. He smirked at the banality of it. Red fruits and a hit of lavender. He filled the only two wine glasses he owned. They weren't even a match and he felt even more of a bum.

"How come you stopped – thank you," Ciel took a glass from his hands and raised it. "To an unexpected but pleasant meeting through unfortunate means."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak. Ciel beat him to the punch. "Humor me and do not contradict me for once. We're having a nice glass of wine on neutral grounds. Just this once, let your guard down and allow yourself to enjoy someone's company for once."

Sebastian could have pointed out how he regularly enjoyed other people's company but telling Ciel said company were the other abusers in an opium den didn't seem like the best ice breaker. So he nodded without a word and they drank. The wine was delicate and tickled his taste buds.

"How come you stopped playing?"

"I guess I find a more productive way to spend my free time," Sebastian replied. Again, he failed to mention his recreational drugs abuse.

"Would you play me something? I enjoy the sound of the cello so."

"I haven't played anything in years," Sebastian reasoned. Ciel didn't take that as an excuse and persistently kept pleading. Jugging the wine back, which allured a resentful look from the Earl, Sebastian picked up the bow and placed his fingertips on the strings. "I might be a tat rusty," he excused himself beforehand.

He played the one piece he remembered. A lullaby. His mother used to sing it. It was technically very easy but the melody was sweet. Ciel stood three steps away. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be taking by the notes the cello produced.

"Your technical skills are still outstanding," Ciel murmured and opened his eyes. "Your fingers touch the strings so feather lightly. It makes eager to find out if you're as delicate with every other thing you touch."

Sebastian jolted and his hands slipped, bringing forth a false noise. Ciel chuckled in his glass and took another small sip of his wine. "Want some more?" He turned on his heels and walked to the kitchen to refill their glasses. Crimson eyes followed his every move and Sebastian was left to wonder if that was an invitation or just some innocent teasing. If it was in fact the latter, it had worked perfectly. His cock hardened in his pants and twitched longingly. It guided his next actions and for once, it was the inspector who made the Earls body jolt in surprise.

Ciel breathed in deep when he felt not only the chiseled chest but also the clad bulge press against his back. Sebastian reached around and took one of the full glasses. "Thank you," he whispered in Ciel's ear, his lips close enough to feel them against his skin. He felt the warm breath rush down his neck. The Earl swallowed, braced himself and turned around. He looked up at the male from below and was once more impressed by his height. He had a secret weakness for men taller than himself. It intimidated him and triggered his dominant side.

"You like the wine?" Ciel asked. His voice was different. He did not know if Sebastian had picked up on that as well. He folded his arms as casual as he could manage to create some distance between their bodies. Sebastian did not answer so Ciel sipped his wine. "It's from the Provence. That is in the south of France," he said, hoping that summing up meaningless facts would establish his place as the dominant one again. He licked his lips, tasting a bit of the honey and lavender aftertaste and looked up again. Sebastian had a strange gleam in his eyes Ciel couldn't define. "Are you-"

Abruptly, the taller male cupped his cheeks, leaned down and kissed him. He kissed him hard and aggressive. Hungrily. It made the Earl's knees buckle. He dropped his glass of wine. It crashed and shattered at their feet. Ciel grabbed Sebastian's hips and dug his fingertips in the fabric off his pants. They had to come off. He had to have him again. He pawed at the buttons but Sebastian slapped his hands away.

"Patience is a virtue," he whispered against the panting plump lips and devoured them again.

His tongue danced through Ciel's mouth, exploring the depths of the wine and caressing Ciel's with well-coordinated strokes. He knotted a hand in Ciel's hair and roughly yanked his head back. His lips ventured down the soft skin and licked down the tendons. He grabbed the collar of Ciel's white shirt and carelessly ripped it open. The buttons exploded off the fabric and were send flying across the room.

"Not so delicate after all," Ciel gasped.

Sebastian ceased his actions and tilted his head back. The look in his eyes told Ciel to shut up and receive it like a man. Something the Earl had never done and wasn't sure if he even wanted. He was left no choice when Sebastian easily lifted him off the floor and shoved him into the wall. His long fingers were surprisingly cool and gentle as he caressed the skin of Ciel's exposed waist. He roughly pushed his lower body between the Earl's legs and grinded against him. It turned Ciel on; immensely.

"Fuck that feels good," he groaned and tilted his back as much as he could while being captured between the thin wall and Sebastian's body. It invited the inspector to suck on the skin of his neck and enrich their arousal by biting the delicate flesh.

"Come on," Sebastian stepped back and pulled Ciel along towards the unmade bed. He positioned the Earl in front of him and slowly undressed him. Every piece of clothing was placed over the iron framing of the bed with much care and he took a step back to look at his handy work. Ciel didn't seem to feel uncomfortable at all, standing there, completely naked and gaped at by another man.

"Well," the Earl smirked and tilted his head back with an arrogant air. "Are we going to fuck or are you just going to stand there?"

Sebastian smirked with the same arrogance. "When I'm done with you, you'll wish you hadn't taken that smug attitude with me."

"We'll see." Ciel wanted to take a step forward but was stopped by Sebastian raising his hand.

"Stay there. I'll come to you," he said and took slow steps towards his target. Something about his thought through moves reminded Ciel of an animal. A predator sneaking up on an aware prey and not pouncing until it grew accustomed to the danger and looked away. Ciel willingly let go of all his defenses and let Sebastian turned him around and pull him into his chest.

There was no more pretending. There was no crime committed and no accusations. They weren't self-proclaimed enemies. They were two man caught in the heat of thet moment. Sebastian rubbed his clad dick against Ciel's firm ass and brought the Earl gratification by reaching around and jerking him off. He worked a rhythm that he knew would bring Ciel immense pleasure and seconds after he had started to massage his sack as well, Ciel came.

Ciel vaguely registered that the lips traced down his back. He had to grab onto the beam overhead when Sebastian spread his ass cheeks and sucked on the tight muscle. The warm tongue penetrated him and lapped at his puckered hole. The muscles in his legs tensed and relaxed at random and feeling the tongue lick his scrotum, Ciel felt his dick grow hard again. He reached down and rubbed it, only to have Sebastian grab his wrist and twist the arm on his back. He hissed in pain and cursed.

Sebastian enjoyed the torture he bestowed up the younger male and made him squirm more when he bit the delicate flesh of the Earl's ass. He rose to his feet and barked a command in Ciel's ear.

"Make yourself useful," he said and passive aggressively brought Ciel's hand to his clad dick. The hand rubbed the bulge through the pants. He dropped it and pressed his ass against Sebastian's groin, grinding it teasingly.

"Fuck," Sebastian gritted his teeth and rolled his head in his neck. The fine body pressed against him felt even better than he could ever had imagined. He was clueless how he had ever gotten himself off at some fake fantasy. Reality was euphoria and it made him hungry. He loosened his pants enough to pull his dick out. Ciel groaned when the fleshy cock pulsated against his back.

"You ready?" Sebastian let some saliva trickle down his fingers and smeared it over his dick and Ciel's hole. He kicked the young man's legs apart and grabbed a hold of his waist. "This might hurt," he announced before slowly pushing the head of his cock into the tight ass.

Ciel breathed in and swallowed every curse that welled up in his chest. He would take it like a man and he knew he would love it. The surge of dominance that had come over Sebastian made him docile and obedient. He was hot wax in his trained hands and longed for even better gratification. He grabbed onto the beam with both hands and bend over, allowing Sebastian more excess into his body. He wanted to feel it throb in his ass. He wanted the inspector to pound him. He wanted to be left wondering what had come over him. How he had let a man fuck him over doing the fucking himself.

"Just thrust it in and fuck me hard," he cursed. Sebastian should've been taken aback by the wild demand but he could only chuckle about his need to dominate still, even in their current situation.

"Yes, my Lord," he joked and sheathed his dick entirely with one hard thrust. Ciel cried out and kept doing so while Sebastian closely followed his order and fucked him fast and hard. The screams gradually faded and evolved to moans of intense pleasure. Sebastian pounded into him. Ciel slammed his ass into him at sync. The sound of their flesh colliding vibrated through the sultry air in the small apartment.

Sebastian told him to curve his back. Ciel complied and felt the cock sink even deeper into his ass. A hand reached around and closed around the Earl's cock. Sebastian panted into his neck while he jerked him off and thrust into him at an irregular pace. A tempo that drove Ciel to the verge and made him come again. His sperm spurted against the wall and spilled on the sheets. It trickled down Sebastian's fingers that still slowly pumped the twitching dick.

"I'm going to-" Sebastian sank his teeth into Ciel's shoulder and bit down hard. He would let his body finish the sentence for him. He came deep inside Ciel's ass. He could feel his dick pulsate inside him while he unloaded his sperm in the warm body. Panting, he unlatch his mouth and rested his forehead against the back of Ciel's neck.

"Stay here."

The words came out of his mouth before he could swallow them. He was instantly ashamed of his plead. It sounded desperate, and even if he was, Ciel didn't need to know that.

"Alright."

He felt Ciel's body relax into his. His own sperm started to trickle down. He felt it ooze down his cock and amass at the base of his dick. If he pulled out, it would spill onto the floor and inevitably turn him on again. So he did, and he watched it happen while licking his lips. Ciel might've been aware of his perversion because he reached back and gathered some cum that had been trickling down his right leg on his finger. Looking over his shoulder, he lapped it up with a smug smirk. Even with his body beaten and tired from withdrawal and their first screw, Sebastian felt his cock grow hard again.

"Lie down," he commanded. "Lie down and spread your legs."

Ciel followed his order and watched admiringly at the lean but toned body that kneeled down between his legs. Sebastian raised the limbs, threw them over his shoulders and angled Ciel's hips. Without bothering to ask for permission, he easily sank his cock in the by sperm lubricated hole and pounded into him with more force and determination to let each reach divinity again.

* * *

Ciel was gone when Sebastian awoke. There was no note, something that would probably be for the best. Neither of them needed such common courtesy to be a reminder of a night that would probably never be spoken off again. He had watched Ciel sleep in his arms. It was despicably plain and banal. He could've lost himself in shame if it had not felt so right. Ciel must've snuck out somewhere between twilight and dawn, when Sebastian had finally fallen asleep himself.

He got up, forbidding himself to lie in that bed any longer and perverted remind himself of what had been. The usual order was restored and Ciel was his number one suspect once more. He went to the bathroom, intending to ready himself. He couldn't bare to wash himself and lose that distinguished scent. He just ran his hands through his hair, brushed his teeth and got dressed in a clean suit.

London was still fast asleep when he walked to work. He didn't stop for a cup of coffee and went straight to the office. He did pick up a newspaper and was surprised any of the Yard's last nights' mistakes hadn't made the front page. He smirked at the thought of it and whistled while continuing on his way. When he caught himself doing so, he cursed inwardly and pressed his lips tightly together to keep that from happening again.

The office was empty shy for Claude. He was standing at Mey-rin's desk and was reading some files she had finished yesterday. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes and his cheeks unnaturally pale. He sipped coffee from some employee's mug instead of the usual china Hannah reserved especially for the head staff.

"Morning."

Claude looked up and produced a ghost of a smile. Sebastian walked up to him and halted two feet away from him. The silence was awkward. There were things that needed to be discussed but neither seemed to want to get into it. Ignoring was the only solution and Sebastian's could've sworn he heard Claude sigh relieved when he brought up the list.

"I have it here." Sebastian pulled the still closed envelope from his coat and handed it to Claude. He set his mug down, snatched a letter opener from the desk and tore at the fine paper. He retrieved the parchment and unfolded it. His brow creased slowly.

"Are you sure this is the right document?"

"Of course I am. Ci- the Earl gave it to me personally. Why?"

"Have a look for yourself," Claude reached out his hand. Sebastian took it and read the single line that was written in the middle of the parchment with a bright blue ink.

"040621121892?"

He read the numbers out loud. Over and over. They made no sense.

"What is this?" He asked to no one in particular. His eyes met Claude's. The chief shrugged with an indifference Sebastian had never seen in him before.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. Let me know your findings by the end of the day," he turned on his heels and headed towards the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, hesitated but turned back to Sebastian anyway. "Hannah no longer works here," he announced.

Sebastian tore his eyes from the paper and looked at his boss. Claude didn't have to say anything else. Those words were enough for him to know what had happened at the Faustus house last night. He nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Yes," Claude hummed absentmindedly. "So am I," and he continued up the stairs without another word.

Sebastian walked to his office, switched on his desk light and sank down in his chair. He held the paper up against the light. There was no hidden clue, just the numbers, taunting him. He leaned back and placed his feet on the desk. He turned the page over and over but could not figure out the meaning off it. Confronting Ciel with it would be too easy. He knew the Earl would never give him the answer.

Lost in thoughts of last night mixed with the mystery note, he hardly noticed when a red blur burst through the door and charged to his desk at lightning speed.

"You went to the Earl of Phantomhive's Christmas party and you did not invite me to come along?!"

Sebastian looked up at Grell. The red head was clearly unsettled. It appeased him immensely. "And that came to you as a surprise because?"

Turning a deaf ear to Grell's outraged fuming, Sebastian put his hands behind his head and allowed himself to recall last night's memory again while his partner vented his unwitty and unjustified anger.

* * *

_(extremely false singsong voice)_

But Ciel's a good girl. He knows he wants it. I know he wants it. Sebastian came, saw, conquered and came again. I do hope this makes up for the Ciel-does-the-nasty-to-Sebastian-in-a-muddy-back-a lley. I will never apologize for that scene. I can't so I shan't; I loved it dearly. But, I do hope you enjoyed this a little better.

Give me some good juice, because if I'm honest, it's berry blasting hard to come up with original fuck scenes. His dick sways this way. His mouth swallows entirely. Sperm trickles and spurts. It's all the same and it is damned hard to wrap it in a nice, cumming package. I think fellow writer's can back me up on that.

Thank you for reading, please reward me with a nice and very lengthy review. J'adore those!


	13. File 13

**WRITER'S NOTE:**

This will be the last update I do before I leave for Spain in about 6 hours. 3 weeks spent doing nothing but going to the beach, drinking wine, eating good food and writing. So, no doubt I will update like a maniac when I get back. Till than, you'll have to make do with this chapter.

Haven't proof read it, and I probably won't do that for another 3 weeks. But since I am excited to update this, I hope you can forgive any grammatical errors.

Enjoy!

O.

* * *

Days passed and Sebastian did not come any closer to an answer. He repeatedly kept asking himself the same question. What did those numbers mean and what was their relation to the case? He did not receive any sign of life from Ciel; not that he had expected such. They had sex. It did not change anything about the fact that he was still his main suspect.

It was New Year's Eve. A time most people would want to spend with their family, celebrating with champagne and dinner. Sebastian could only celebrate that he had survived yet another year. He had rudely declined Grell's proposal to come and celebrate it with him. "I can assure you that I'd rather die a very slow and painful death," had been his reply. The read head had pouted for a good five minutes before the answer had sunk in completely and he left with his tail between his legs.

He had spent a great deal of his evening staring at the numeric code. He had dialed the number; the operator told him it was incorrect. He had gone to every bank in the city to inquire about the length of their safe codes. Without giving away too much information, they could assure him the cryptograph was too long to be a safe code. He had tried to form a word according to the alphabet. It was ridiculous since the number zero was not included in the standard alphabet. Digging through books in the library proved that the number zero was not included in any known alphabet in any language. He had excluded all the obvious and by the end of the evening, despair started to rear its ugly head. Could it be that all the knowledge he had acquired over the years was not enough to decipher some stupid numeric code? Would the Earl win after all?

Close to ten, he gave up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He hadn't deserved it, but he needed it to keep himself from going mental. He reclined in the soft leather of his chair. It was a small comfort. He rolled his eyes skyward and made an extensive study of the stains on the ceiling. After his second sip, he rolled his eyes back to his desk and squinted at the mocking piece of parchment.

"What in blazes do you mean by this?" He wondered out loud. He let his long fingers wander over the paper. He must've done that some twenty times already and the result was still the same; there were no peculiar irregularities.

Mindlessly, he jugged his drink back and poured himself another. It was thrown back in one large gulp as well. The effects of the strong liquor on an empty stomach came fast and brought him in a state of drunken clarity. It dawned on him that if he wanted to know, he'd simply had to go to the Phantomhive manor and confront the Earl.

"That I didn't think of that before," he chuckled and unsteadily heaved himself to his feet, using his desk as leverage. He clumsily pawed his coat on, haphazardly buttoned it up and headed towards the door. He forcefully yanked it open. It slammed against the wall and caused a stir through the silent hall. The triplets, the only three that had offered to work this evening, briefly looked up from their work before continuing like nothing had happened. Sebastian was drunk, it was hardly a first.

"I am out," he announced. The excitement note in his voice bounced off the high ceiling and echoed amongst the marble pillars. The three automatically nodded without a word and didn't bother looking up when the inspector stumbled to the front door, nearly tripping over his feet every other step or so.

Bard opened the glass door in time before the intoxicated Sebastian crashed through it. He grinned sheepish and leaned heavy on the blonde guard. "Be a dear and hail a carriage for me, will you?"

"Certainly. Will you be ok standing on your own for a second?"

Sebastian waved it away, slurring some intelligible words and nodding exuberantly. The blonde frowned for a moment, told him to lean against one of the stone pillars and kept looking over his shoulder while he rushed down the steps to hail a carriage. Sebastian was peeved by the attentiveness of the guard. He only had two drinks and he was treated like some helpless drunk. With all the willpower he could summon, he managed to walk down the steps without tipping over and coughed in his hand to draw the guard's attention.

"I can take it from here, thank you."

"Are you sure, inspector?" Bard raised an eyebrow at his rocking figure. "I would be more than happy to help it. It is really no trouble at all." The mild tone the guard took with him aggravated Sebastian immensely.

"I can perfectly manage on my own," he fumed, pouring a lot of effort into sounding coherent and authoritative. He raised a hand and was relieved to see a carriage slowing down. He hissed dangerously when Bard leaped forward to open the door. The blonde stopped dead in his track. With a cordial smile, he raised his hands defensively and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck after. He did not dare assisting when the inspector balanced unsteadily on the step and barely managed to get into the carriage with keeling back.

"Have a good evening, inspector Michaelis. And a happy new year," he added, saluting and clicking his heels together. His tone was still respectful and his smile well-meant. It made Sebastian shiver to the core.

"Yes," Sebastian dropped down on the soft bench. He had to suppress a sigh of relief. "You too," he replied groggily and closed the door. Sticking his head through the open window, he shouted directions at the coachman. "And step on it."

Before Bard could stop the carriage, it took off. He cursed inwardly. His only directions had been to make sure nobody from the yard would go to the Phantomhive manor tonight. He'd have to warn them somehow. He watched the carriage speed off, it's wheels skidded on the snow covered pavement when it rounded the corner. When he was absolutely sure the inspector couldn't see him anymore, he rushed up the stairs and into the building.

* * *

Alois had been dreading New Year's evening since Ciel informed him the members of Noah's Ark would be coming over. He had spent such a pleasant holiday without the riff-raff. Now, they were feasting like downright animals. Eating and drinking and spoiling the refined air with their filthy jokes. The mansion had turned into a zoo.

Tanaka had entered to room to announce a phone call for the Earl. The blonde had never been so happy to see the old butler in his entire life. He insisted he'd take it so Ciel could spend more quality time with his friends. The slate haired male raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.

"Spend more quality time with my friends, huh?" Ciel's tone of voice betrayed a note of skepticism. His blue eyes drifted to the greying butler in the doorway. "And who is calling at this late hour?"

"Mister Bardroy, Sir," Tanaka announced. "He says it is of great importance."

Ciel's eyes shot back to the blonde. A sardonic smile curled his lips. Ciel knew Alois hated Bard, passionately. _Talking to him could only lead to devolution_. He remembered the blonde uttering those words with an overall look of disdain. "Are you sure you want to take this?"

"Yes," Alois waved it away with a weak hand gesture. By his attitude, it was already made clear he did not want to bother with the effort of the call but used it as an excuse to leave the cacophony of incredibly loud voices. He rose to his feet and dusted invisible dirt off his pants. "Just let me take this for you. That way you can stay with _guests._" He uttered the words with loathing as he rolled his eyes to the group of drunken circus artists.

"How awfully considerate of you," Ciel reclined in his chair and fanned out his fingers in a strange sophisticated and slow manner. "Do not mind if I take advantage of this unusually kind side of yours more often. I have an early appointment with Elizabeth tomo-"

"Do not test your luck," Alois hissed venomously. He whipped around on the heels of his finest black riding boots. He pushed passed Tanaka and left the room without sparing Ciel another look. The earl shook his head with a knowing grin and once more let his mind wander to better places.

In the hallway, Alois snatched the candlestick phone of the side table and hissed a low _what_ into it.

"Hello, Earl Phantomhive?"

"No you dimwit. This is the Earl of Trancy. What do you want?!"

It remained silent on the other end of the line. After, Bard mumbled an apology and lowered his voice. "I called to warn you that inspector Michaelis is on his way to the mansion."

"What?!" Alois clenched the telephone so tight his knuckles turned white and were in sharp contrast to the outraged fluster that was splattered over his pale cheeks. "You were supposed to keep him away tonight. How big an oaf are you if you can't even perform one mediocre task. It was simple enough; under any circumstances, keep Michaelis put. Do not let him come to the mansion."

"But I-"

"No buts," Alois interrupted him mercilessly. "I do not know how Ciel can keep tolerating your incompetence but I cannot. If you keep on failing, I will make sure you-"

"You will make sure what, Alois?"

The blonde turned on his heels and gazed directly in Ciel's eyes. The earl arched an eyebrow, silently ordering him to finish that sentence. Alois gritted his teeth, mumbled a soft thank you in the phone and hung up. The slate haired male clasped his hands on his back and took his leisure time to stroll over. Standing face to face, Ciel continued in a calm manner.

"I do not appreciate you threatening my staff. I think we have had this discussion before."

Ciel's voice was low and composed. It made him even more sinister. The blonde swallowed audibly, a sign that he felt intimidated. Ciel would never openly threaten someone. He was too sophisticated. But if needed, he would use that same sophistication to enforce respect. A trait he inherited from his father. Sticking his nose in the air, Alois tried to proof he was not afraid of him.

"He blew the one thing that was asked of him and now Michaelis is on his way over."

Ciel arched an eyebrow. "And why is that such a big deal?"

"Because you have a troop of drunken thieves in there that are loudly toasting and telling each other how wickedly clever they are outsmarting the Yard and getting away with robbery. I think even an idiot like Michaelis can make that equation… Unless," Alois pressed his lips together and squinted suspicious at the Earl.

"Unless what Sherlock?" Ciel smirked satisfied about his own clever joke and placed a hand on the side table; calmly leaning into the blonde. "What kind of wild theories have you concocted?"

Alois made a soft _tsk tsk _and snapped a finger at Ciel. "Unless you did not retire to your room the night of the party and went to visit _him_ and are dying for another dirty rendezvous."

Ciel raised his eyebrows in silent response. Alois threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I knew it. I knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself," he accused. "I told you it was a bad idea to invite him over but would you listen? _No_; of course not. Do you realize you are sufficiently jeopardizing our mission for a meaningless scr-"

"Think carefully about your words before you continue, _chief_." Ciel gave him a meaningful look. Surprise rendered Alois completely silent and caused a vague blush across his cheeks. He closed his mouth and stared daggers at his friend.

"Thought so. I am glad we cleared that up before you started to accuse me of wildly inappropriate behavior." Ciel turned on his heels and headed back to the living room.

"Just realize that I did that to cover up your nasty business," Alois called. Ciel stopped dead in his track for a second. Then, he shook his head with a chuckle and made a short hand gesture while strolling on.

"Please Alois. Do not pretend that fucking chief Faustus was for a good cause. We all know that you already moved all your chemicals back to your room the day before." And he disappeared into the dining room before Alois could shot something back. The blonde was left on his own in the hallway, pacing around in circles and cursing inwardly.

* * *

The coach ride had left Sebastian nauseas. By the time they drove up the lane to the manor the alcohol had lost its effect and he was left with a heavy feeling in his stomach. Like a rock, weighing down on his intestines. He could still ask the coachman to turn around and safe his own dignity, but he failed to do so.

The carriage came to a skidding stop. Sebastian gazed at the immense porch. It was calm. Apparently one seasonal party had been enough. He contemplated his options. He knew he should go back. There was nothing here for him. His body thought different and the erection felt heavy and jerked expectantly inside his pants.

"Sir?" The voice of the coachman called hesitantly. "We have arrived."

Sebastian inhaled deep and closed his eyes for a second. A deep sigh and a firm nod. He opened the door and stepped out. The cold wind whipped painfully his cheeks and nose. His breath came out in a tiny cloud. He turned to the coachman and rummaged through the pocket of his coat.

"Thank you," he called and expertly flicked a pound his way. "Keep the change, for your trouble."

Blinded by the money, the coachman offered to wait. Sebastian shook his head. "I shan't need your services anymore tonight," he turned on his heels and headed towards to front door. He halted when he heard the carriage take off and for a split second he thought about chasing it and riding back to town. However, his body forced him to stick by his decision and he jogged up the stone steps. He knocked with more determination and stuffed his cold hands in his pockets.

The door opened. He put on his professional smile. Against expectation, not Tanaka stood in front of him. It threw Sebastian of guard for a second. He quickly recovered and smirked lopsided.

"Should an earl open his own front door when he has capable staff to do it for him?"

Ciel folded his arms and leaned against the wooden frame. "My butler is not as young as he used to be. He cannot stay up just in case someone decides to show up at this late hour. He needs his rest to draw my baths in the morning and make my breakfast."

Sebastian snorted and rolled his eyes. "You can't draw your own bath? For someone who sits that high on his horse, acknowledging that should be a mighty long fall. Does it hurt?"

"I have you know, inspector Michaelis," Ciel poked Sebastian's stomach with his forefinger. "That I was told that I make the best French toast in London, dare I even say in England."

With mouth slightly ajar, Sebastian tilted his head back and peered down at the earl through his lashes. "Well," he stepped onto the threshold and loomed over the slate haired young male. Leaning down, he whispered. "Perhaps I will found out," his voice like liquid chocolate while he brushed his lips over Ciel's cheek. "Are you going to invite me in?"

The earl swallowed. The note of not-so subtle seduction in the voice unsettled him in a good way. He opened the door wide and gestured into the dimly lit hall. "Come in. Make yourself at home."

Sebastian stepped inside. Composed. His crimson eyes scanned the area. He heard Ciel close the door behind him. The sex was palpable, but he would wait to make his move.

"Would you care for a glass of wine?"

The hand Ciel placed on the small of his back made his entire body throb. Sebastian cocked his head and glanced in the cobalt blue eyes. They both knew what the evening would lead to. It was inevitable. You could practically smell it in the air. Testosterone mixed with endorphins. It made for an incredibly irresistible perfume.

"Please," Sebastian answered and walked into the direction Ciel gestured to. They were going to the study. It was one story below the desired bedroom. He would be patient. If he played his cards right, he might even wiggle some crucial information out of him.

The office provided pleasant warmth. Logs crackled in the fireplace. The light was turned down low. The curtains were closed and above all, there was no Earl of Trancy to deliberately form an obnoxious obstruction.

"Isn't your shadow here to supply us with a running commentary?"

Ciel chortled coolly, closing the door behind him and striding to a vast globe next to his desk. He lifted the top and let his fingers hoover over the bottles that were inside. "No. I send him to his room," he answered and pulled a green bottle out. It seemed to still be sealed off and was covered by a fine layer of dust. "There, a ripe chianti," he said and carefully closed the lid.

"Send him to his room?" Sebastian arched an eyebrow, his eyes following the earl who walked to a display case to retrieve two perfectly matching crystal wine glasses. "It cannot be that easy."

Ciel uncorked the bottle. The pouring of the wine made a delightful swirling sound. The earl pinched the stems between his thumbs and forefingers and walked to the inspector, rarefied grace in his every step. "I can be with the right leverage," Ciel smirked devilish. "Here," he handed Sebastian one of the glasses.

"I think I am as much impressed as I am unsettled. Thank you," Sebastian took the glass and held it to his lips. The scent that rose from the ruby red liquor was divine.

"Unsettled?" Ciel took a sip of his drink and let the wine role around in his mouth, activating his taste buds before he swallowed. He sighed with delight. "Pray tell what unsettles you."

_You._ The thought crept in suddenly like a ninja. He resisted the urge to tell him and focused on what he had intended to say. "I am afraid I must compel you not to say a word to anyone about the affaires that took place between chief Faustus and the Earl of Trancy. It would indubitably ruin my boss's good reputation. One he is very keen on maintaining the way it is."

Ciel licked his upper lip and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Well," he sighed and locked eyes with Sebastian again. "I have no reason too. Exposing chief Faustus will not benefit me in the least."

"You only pursue causes that egg your beer?"

An amused chuckle spilled from Ciel's lips. "Egg one's beer? What a pleasant commoner's expression. Must be such a blessing not having to worry about sophistication."

"Oh how terribly clumsy of me," Sebastian stuck his nose in the air with feigned posh and a heavy accent. "For me to utter such vulgar words in such rarefied company," he fanned out his fingers with a natural grace. Ciel snickered at it.

"You've got a natural talent. Sure there is not any noble blood in your family?"

"Not sure," Sebastian shrugged. "I couldn't be really bothered to find out," he said and jugged back his wine in one gulp. "Jolly good stuff," he walked to the desk and refilled his glass. "Care for some more as well?" He asked, holding up the bottle. Ciel came over, nodding and holding out his glass. He watched Sebastian pour the red wine into his glass and looked up at him from below.

"Do you know what would go really well with this?"

Unfulfilled desire welled up at the velvety voice. Sebastian shook his head. "I do not," he whispered in a husk tone.

Ciel smiled mysterious, headed to the door and turned. "Follow me," he said and crooked his finger and briefly beckoned him to come along with a come hither look in his eyes before abruptly turning on his heels and moving along. "And take the bottle with you," he called over his shoulder.

Without any questions, Sebastian followed. More than eager to know where the earl would lead him.

* * *

A pleasurable moan broke the intense silence in the bedroom. Sebastian exhaled with a groan of gratification and reclined into the chair. "You were right. This does compliment the wine incredibly good," he breathed and inhaled deep.

Ciel looked up, licking his lips. "It does taste awfully good," he agreed. "Especially when you curl your lips around the tip and suck hard; like this."

Sebastian bit his bottom lip when Ciel closed his lips around the thick wet tip and sucked hard. After, he watched the earl huff out the tobacco in small circles. "I would not have taken you for a smoker."

The earl crossed his feet on the windowsill and shivered when a cold gust of wind blew in and puffed up the thick blue curtains. He cocked his head and propped his cheek up against his knuckles. "I can appreciate a fine cigar every now and then," he replied and let his eyes glide over the length of the thick smoke. "Sucking on one of these provides good practice," he added with a saucy wink.

Not prepared for the spontaneous flirtation, a shocked Sebastian choked on the tobacco he just breathed in and coughed into his hand.

Ciel grinned and slapped a hand to his back. "Here," he reached out and picked up one of the wine glasses off the Moroccan tea table that stood between them. "Have a sip."

Sebastian wheezed a thank you and hastily gulped it down. "Stop being so inappropriate," he hissed between sips. Ciel raised the bottle and Sebastian let him refill his glass.

"I think we're a little beyond the shame of being inappropriate," Ciel told him calmly. Sebastian had no educated reply to that a resumed staring out the window.

It had started to snow again and the yard was already covered with a crisp new layer of snow. An owl hooted somewhere in the forest. The wind rustled through the remaining old leaves. It was completely serene out here. London would be a drunken mess by now, no doubt. Even if his initial motivations had been wrong, Sebastian was almost glad he had come to the outskirts of the city to spend a quiet evening with his main suspect.

He dared to cock his head and glance sideways. The light of the full moon played tricks on his eyes and made it look as if Ciel's skin was glowing. It was a soft blue glow and it complimented the highlights in his slate hair. He was a very handsome individual. The possibility that there was anybody like him was very slim. The way he stirred up Sebastian's inner deviant. How he could make him obsess over him without putting any effort into it. It was uncanny and caused another unwitting longing.

"It is a fine evening," the earl blew out some tobacco and cocked his head to the inspector. "Even when unannounced and most certainly unexpected, I am glad you came," he said and reached out. Sebastian's eyes followed the hand until it curled around his own and squeezed.

Leaning forward, Sebastian smothered Ciel's surprised gasp with his mouth. He licked the parted lips. Nipped at them and slowly brushed his tongue against Ciel's. The kiss was unrushed and lacked the violence both men had poured into it the last time they collided. It was pleasant and appropriate, as of the setting altered their sexual mood.

Sebastian broke away and smiled at the still ajar lips. He got up and pulled Ciel to his feet. The shorter male wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and tilted his head back to search the crimson eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

Sebastian pressed his lips together and squinted. He thought off a lot of things. Things that all centered around the dangerous games he was playing. What a fool he was for giving into desire over and over. He decided to spare Ciel his true thoughts and pressed his hands under the earl's jaw with a careless smile. "Nothing that you should concern yourself with," he replied and bent down to kiss him.

Ciel's naked form lay sprawled over the cotton sheets. He was calm and watched motionlessly as a half undressed Sebastian crawled up and hovered over him. The wind had extinguished the candles on the bedside table and now the moon cast an almost silver light through the high windows. It caused treacherous shadows on the wall and made their alabaster skin glow.

Sebastian studied Ciel's eyes. The deceitful moon made them a cold arctic blue. The color of icebergs. Ciel peered right back into his and the crimson eyes were bright and fierce. The color of flames. Each other's direct opposite but strangely attracted. Opposites that were raw and exposed just below the surface.

Sebastian leaned down and kissed the craned neck. He dragged his tongue over the chiseled chest and lightly brushed his lips over the toned abs. He intentionally spared the jerking erection no attention, even if that was incredibly hard with beads of precum trickling from the tip. Instead, he turned his focus to the smooth thighs. He nibbled on the soft skin and dragged his tongue teasingly slow down the lean muscles.

Ciel gasped for air. The cool long fingers dug into his flesh. Every bit of skin Sebastian caressed burned with yearning. His body pinned for the older male. He breathed in his musk scent and exhaled need. A need to be touched. A need to belong. A need to feel something other than the painful memory that set everything in motion. He might not find with Sebastian was he was looking for, but it seemed close enough. He never believed in perfection and what was happening between them now was probably as close as he would get. He almost started to wonder if he should confess to the robberies. If he should confess what he had done to him when he was high on opium? The thought was knocked from his mind when Sebastian's fingers cane dangerously close to his twitching cock.

He angled his hips, jerking his hips up to demand attention. His erection was painfully heavy and he had to unload. He wanted sweet relief and hard gratification and he wanted it now.

Sebastian ceased his administrations and looked up. The mysterious pale light that reflected in his cheekily twinkling eyes made him even more attractive. He placed a finger against his lips and shook his head, signaling for him to be quiet.

Just when Ciel was about to go insane from anticipation, Sebastian pushed himself up and hovered over him. Ciel closed his eyes and swallowed. His hands fumbled with Sebastian's pants until he finally pulled his erection out. He groaned when the older male rubbed his cock against his, precum coating the younger male's shaft.

"Your skin tastes salty," he whispered against the parted lips. Kissing him hard, Sebastian muted the earl's bloodcurdling scream when he blatantly thrust his hard erection into him.

* * *

Sebastian slowly exhaled some tobacco. The blue smoke curled and twirled in the air. It was close to dawn and he was still in Ciel's bed. The earl was sound asleep next to him. Sebastian felt accomplished that he had literally screwed him into a sex slumber.

He propped up on one elbow and sucked on the butt of his cigarette. In the distance, the dark night was making way for the morning. Streaks of purple and red divided the line between dawn and sunrise. He threw the blankets off and gave his long legs a swing, moving himself in a sitting position.

He firmly planted his feet on the floor. The marble felt cold against the soles of his feet. He rubbed his tired eyes and stared at the changing air. Ciel moved behind him. He threw a look over his shoulder to see if he woke up. The earl smacked his lips, wrinkled his nose and slept on. An endearing smile crept onto Sebastian's lips. It was that moment he realized he was falling for him and that he had to get out of there as fast as he could.

He dressed in a hurry. He didn't want to wake Ciel up and tangled in his web of natural charm again. He didn't even bother to slip his shoes on; he would do that on his way out. One more look at the serene sleeping form of the earl and he left. The mansion was still quiet. Sebastian could only pray he would not run into the grumpy blonde.

At the bottom of the stairs, he realized he had no idea where his coat was. He cursed inwardly and aimlessly spun around in the hallway, looking for a door that could lead to the coat room.

"Looking for this, Sir?'

Sebastian drew in a startled breath despite himself. Tanaka seemed to be everywhere and know everything about the visitors of the mansion. Right now, it looked like he had emerged out of thin air, holding his coat and shawl.

"Yes," Sebastian smiled cordially and took his belongings. "Thank you."

"Leaving so early, Sir? Wouldn't you like me to fix you some breakfast or perhaps a nice cup of tea? It's awfully cold out there."

"No, thank you," Sebastian shook his head while putting on his coat and wrapping his shawl around his neck. "I have to get to work. It's pretty busy at the yard with all these cases."

"Than at least let me ask the earl's private coachman to take you to town. It is a very long walk and the roads are near to impassible due to last nights' snow blizzard." Tanaka did not wait for a reply and asked him to follow him. He led Sebastian through the servants' quarters and out the back door. The coachman took the orders and Tanaka closed the door behind the inspector.

"Tanaka," Sebastian leaned out the window. "Could you, possibly, thank the earl for me?"

The old man nodded with a respectful smile. "Most certainly Sir. Have a safe trip back."

The ride back seemed to take longer than usual. All he could think about was how mixed up his emotions were. His professional side knew that he could not let the earl get to him but he was already in too deep to easily forget about the time they spend together. His craving became so bad that he had to replace it with something else before he would tell the coachman to turn around and take him back.

When they drove into the city, he asked him to stop. He tried to pay him but he wouldn't take it. Said that it was his job to see to the guests of the Phantomhive family. Just when the coach turned the corner, he hailed another. "Chelsea dock," he called and slammed the door.

The harbor was still quiet, shy for some drunken sailors and boat workers stumbling around drinking beer. The Chinese lanterns were still on. The den was still open. He stood there in the snow, hands in his pockets. He watched some people come out, wobbly and undirected. He was hesitant. His body craved some gratification and the earl could no longer be it. It was not until he saw a familiar face that he found the courage to walk over.

Undertaker smiled dense. His flailed his arms, flapping them up and down like a baby bird. He was high and seemed completely happy about it. When he recognized him, the silver haired male erupted in spontaneous and loud cooing.

"Inspector," he chirped. "_Keh keh keh._ It has been a long time since I saw you here."

"Is it still open?" Sebastian jerked his head to the door. Undertaker turned his head and in the effort to keep his footing, he nearly keeled over. Sebastian caught him before he hit the snow covered pavement.

"It is, but you'll find more cheer in a graveyard. The place is dead. Less and less customers have been showing up ever since those robberies started. It has startled all the rich clients that kept this place up and running."

Sebastian squinted and tilted his head back. The lanterns had somehow been extinguished. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a tin box. He clicked it open and placed a cigarette between his lips. The earl had left his mind and was replaced by the mysterious numbers. Then, tiny things started to fall into place. Little hints. The indisputable fact the Undertaker just raised. The rich. The drugs. It all was linked in some confusing web he was only now starting to make sense off.

"040621121892," Sebastian whispered out loud as he tried to fit the numbers into the entire picture. He had to get back to the office.

He dragged the Undertaker to the carriage that he had waiting for him. He told the coachman the directions and paid him royally. Stuffing one hand in his pocket, he took the smoke from his lips and exhaled. Today he would walk. He loosely pinned the smoke between his lips again and started on his way. He would walk to his work and solve every little detail that held London in its wicked grasp and kept this case in a cloud of unsolved mystery.

* * *

So, that was it for three weeks. You will all have to wait at least 22 days for me to past the last chapters of Opium. Probably going to be two more after this one and a short epilogue. Would be mighty fine if you left me a nice review!

Oh, and just because I want it; I wrote a Vincent/Diedrich one shot, please go and review that before I seriously start doubting my writing skills.

Thank you for reading. And please, do leave a kind review. I would forever be grateful.


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